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muppenthings · 1 month

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YyyyyyyyyyooooooooooOOoooouuuffff!!

I feel so much for these characters! ;o;

Absolutely wonderful writing and story!!

Gt WAC Day 23

"A story with a nonhuman/ monstrous character"

THIS, this was a challenge to write ahsushus I'm so nervous cause it took me SO long and as per usual I'm still unsure about it.

This story is based on a dream I had a month ago, I was writing it since then so i could post it on day 23 of gtwac. So yep, new character. It's different from what I've wrote so far, but I hope you guys enjoy it!

Depending on the reception of this story I will continue it, but fair warning that it'll not be a happy one (IF I continue it).

I'm not sure if I'll rate this chapter in particular as above PG-13, but general warning for overall spooky, unsettling vibes.

Enjoy!

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Edward Becker has not seen his wife in seven years.

People called him crazy for waiting for her return. "She's done for", someone mentioned. "Why don't you find another one?", someone suggested, all falling in deaf ears as every single day, he'd go back from work, sit by the porch, and wait for her until the sun went down. A useless effort, as they said, a delusional hope, or the sign of going mad. But for Edward, it was his strength. The only support for his failed attempts at finding her. His last pillar of sanity that made him get up every morning and wait for her until nightfall. His wife would come back, like she always did. She would come back to his open arms, embrace him gently like she used to, cover him with kisses as he pulled her close. They would giggle and enter their home, enjoy a nice meal they cooked together, talking about their day during dinner, about plans for rebuilding their house, plans for a new job he wanted to get, plans about their future children. When night falls, they would sleep holding each other tight, relishing in their shared warmth.

All he had to do was wait for her by the porch.

...

One day, she did comeback.

It was past midnight. So dark and cold outside, most animals have gone to sleep, making the woods around his remote home dead silent. The cows and chickens of his small farm uttered no sound as they slept, and the wind billowed the wheat fields outside, his plain wooden house colored pitch black by the late-night sky. It was a weathered home, well kept indoors but in need of repairs, with ripped, dingy furniture and leaks on the roof. It was protected by a measly three-feet-tall fence that threatened to fall apart, and over the backyard, where the overgrown grass was blown by the wind, laid a simple wooden shed meant for storing farming equipment. Tossing and turning on his bed, Edward sat up with a jolt, sweat dripping on his face as anxiety threatened to eat him whole. He sighed, holding his face in his trembling hands, and letting out a shaky breath. He couldn't fall asleep in those nights, where the memory of Cordelia haunted his mind in his dreams, ones where she wore desperate expressions as she's dragged away from him by detached, withered hands, and no matter how much he ran, he didn't reach her. Nightmares where he found her dead body, pale and laying limp, lifeless eyes staring at him. Nightmares where he found her hurt, bleeding and beaten up, face covered by bruises – in most nights, those visions would plague him.

With a shiver, Edward got up, lighting up the oil lantern. He trudged for the kitchen, on his way to do the same as usual: put some water over the wood burning stove, boil it, try this new tea his friend had brought for him, and drink it aimlessly, hoping in vain for sleep to come back.

He sluggishly put wood pieces inside the firebox, reaching a hand for the lighter on the table. A flicker, two, and the fire was lit. He put the kettle over the stove with a clank, and stared at it blankly, waiting for bubbles to form. The house was pitch black, only the flickering flames of the stove and the lamp’s dim glow illuminated the room.

A loud sizzling of the kettle snapped Edward out of his torpor as the water boiled. He picked the hot handle, feeling its heat burning his skin, lifted it from the fire and — THUMP. A loud thud by the window behind him sent him jumping, fumbling with the kettle in his hands, heartbeat skyrocketing. He banged it on the table. Hot droplets prickled his hand. He turned around with rapid breaths. A blurred shadow dashed away from the window, sending a cold chill down his spine, the wind howling and heavy thuds echoing outside the house’s walls. Rhythmical and constant. Pounding on the ground. Edward sucked in a breath, head ringing against his skull. He stomped towards the cabinet containing his shotgun. There were thieves? In the middle of the night? Were they finally coming to steal a poor and mad man's house? He wouldn't allow it.

He can’t die yet. Not until Cordelia comes back to him.

Loading the gun with precise clicks, Edward aimed it at the window, darting his aim from window to window until he reached the door, the last place he heard the strange sound. With trembling hands over the trigger, his eyes focused on an invisible target. He held his breath, standing still. Not a single sound. Ears trained on any disturbance. THUMP. THUMP. A shadow passed by the window to his right. BANG!

He twisted his body and shot, missing the shadow by an inch.

"W-who's there!?" He shouted in a trepid tone.

No answer. Not even a sound. Maybe the sound of breathing. He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell if it was someone's breathing or his own.

The “sshhhs” and “thuds” echoed around him, heading towards the backyard. Edward adjusted the position of the gun in his arms.

He took a deep breath.

Edward ran to the back door and slammed it open with a kick, pointing the trembling shotgun towards the field. The sky was pitch-black outside, engulfing the horizon with its inky tint, and the stars didn't dare approach the darkness. The faint moonlight was partially obscured by the clouds, its glow too weak to lighten the outdoors. He huffed, feeling the weight of his gun, and headed further into the backyard with measured steps. His shoes crunched the grass below, the dry air amplifying the sound of his stride. Deadly silence filled the field. A puff of smoke left his nostrils as warm exhale met with the frigid air. Tightening the grip around the gun, he aimed it at the decrepit shed. Waiting for movement. Eyes trained forward. The dark blur of a large silhouette shifted behind it.

BANG.

He shot. Once. Twice. The sound of the bullets making his ears ring, metal creating holes in the aged wood. A loud, high-pitched, and definitely human scream cried behind it.

He stopped shooting, heart leaping to his throat. A weight plunked in his insides, making him loose the tight grip on his gun. Behind the shed, he heard it. A gasp. A whimper. A sob. Clearly feminine. Edward lowered the gun, furrowing his brows as the cries made a lump form inside his throat. A trick to let his guard down? A trap? It must be a trick for sure. No way an innocent person would show up in the middle of the night. No, there's no way. Goosebumps trailed down his back as the cries reached his ears. Why was there even someonehere?

The sobbing got louder, echoing in the cold, dark night. He shivered when the shrill voice reverberated in his ears, an uncomfortable knot twisting in his stomach at the thought he could have shot an innocent woman.

"Who... Who's there?" He repeated, cautious this time, as if talking to a cowering animal.

The sobs dwindled little by little. He didn't dare move. The figure was hidden behind the shed, not even the faint moonlight giving a glimpse of its appearance.

Finally, he heard it: that feminine voice. Frail, faint, and so utterly scared.

Its familiarity so potent, something clogged in his throat.

"... Ed..."

That voice. The voice he waited for so many years by the porch. The voice he dreamed of in his sleep. Screaming. Crying for help. Calling for his name.

"... Edward..."

The same voice that recited sweet words of so much care, so much love and adoration to him every day. The voice that followed a gentle embrace, the smell of perfume and a prolonged kiss. The same voice that said "I do" by the altar over 12 years ago, that whispered close to his ear, giggling with joy. The voice that chatted to him relentlessly, which he couldn't get enough of. The voice that laughed, cried, shouted, only to say sweet words of gentle love again. That melodic yet striking voice. Edward didn't notice the tears falling from his face. Didn't notice the gun falling to the ground. Didn't notice his feet moving on his own, towards the shed, towards the faint possibility that she was behind it. He stumbled faster towards it, raising a trembling hand. "C-Cordelia?!" "NO! DON'T COME CLOSER!" The powerful shout made him stop dead on his tracks, ears complaining from its sheer force. He never heard his wife sound so... Desperate. In panic. "... H-honey...?" "Pl-please... D-don't come closer yet." She said, her voice returning to its normal pitch, but shaking with trepidation.

"W-what's wrong...? Did I –"

Then he remembered it. The gun. The shootings. The fact he almost killed his own wife. His heart sank, face turning pale, his voice hoarse.

"Oh God. It's - it's really you, it was you and I almost, I-I a-almost... A-are you hurt? Are you bleeding? I –"

Edward took more shaking steps towards it, the nightmare of his dead wife still clear in his mind.

"NO!" - He stopped again. - "I-I'm fine! I'm not hurt, you d-didn’t hit me."

Edward covered his face with a hand and stopped himself from wanting to vomit.

"Cordelia I'm- ... I-I'm so, so sorry I thought it was a thief, I..."

He lowered his head, and took a shaky breath.

"Am I going crazy? Is – is it r-really you?! I, I waited for s-so long – I thought you were dead —!"

Tears poured desperately from Edward's eyes, his attempts to stop his sobs coming in vain. He hiccupped under his cries, breathing rapidly as reality came crashing down and years of restrained emotion leaked out. The voice sounded just like her. The voice could really be her.

‘Then, if it’s her, why is she hiding?’

"Please, d-dear, if it's really you..." - he whispered, his voice croaky and dry. Tears continued to fall.

"Please let me see you..." The shed grew eerily silent. Cold air made him quiver. A silent second spread throughout the night, the sounds of his sobs echoing through the pitch-black darkness. "I... I can't."

She whispered back in a shaky voice. Unsure. Afraid. Edward raised his head, glancing to the fallen gun on the grass, a realization hitting deep inside his stomach. "Are you scared of me...?" A pause. He heard her sucking in a breath. A long, deep exhale was carried by the wind. Her voice faint and trembling. "N-no... Dear, I... I'm not scared of you." The shed's wood creaked, like something was gripping it and scratching it down. "...I'm scared of myself." Edward's guilty expression changed to confusion. He furrowed his brows. A part of him wanted to giggle. His adorable wife, scared of herself? Why? She always had some impatience and anger she was discontent about, but even so... That made no sense. The way she acted, hiding from him, made no sense. Another part of Edward felt an odd sense of dread. As if something was not right. "Honey, why are you hiding from me? I... I waited for so long... I-I searched everywhere for you, and when I couldn't find anything, I waited. And when I couldn't wait anymore, I prayed. I hoped. I-I never paid attention to what the others said, even if they called me crazy." He took a step towards the shed. She sucked in a breath. Edward didn't notice more tears started to pour from his face. "And it's you, r-right? It's you who's behind here, right? Alive and well? Please dear... Don't let me think I've gone crazy!" He took another step closer. Then another. She whimpered behind the decrepit barn. Edward's vision was blurry from his own tears, but he didn't care anymore. He just needed to see her, even if it wasn't true. Even if he died.

Gosh, he just wanted to see her.

"Honey, DON'T!" The sheer loudness of her rigid voice made him stop dead on his tracks again. He opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Cordelia interrupted him.

"It's n-not... It's not that I'm not alive and well, Edward..." "So why are y-"

"...I-it's that I don't know what I am anymore..." He paused. That uneasy sense of dread sank heavier inside him. "What...? Cordelia, what do you mean-" "If I," – She interrupted, taking a deep breath. – "If I really come out of this shed, Will you promise, promise me that you will not run?" A shiver ran down his spine. Heartbeat rocked harder against his chest. Something's not right. Something's clearly not right. But Edward planted his feet firmly on the ground. It was his wife's voice. He lost her seven years ago. He doesn't know what happened to her in that time. She could be different from how she looked back then, hurt and bruised from whatever abuse they inflicted on her. Rage bubbled up inside him. Whoever did anything to her, he would kill them in cold blood. They would pay for taking her away from him. Being hurt and disfigured by her captors… That was probably what Cordelia meant.

There was no need for him to feel so nervous.

"You know I love you, dear... No matter what. You know I'd never run away from you... So why would you even ask that?"

"Please, Edward." She said louder than he expected. Desperate. Too desperate. "Please promise you won't run." The moonlight cast over the shed, the little gaps between the wooden plates showing a faint shadow behind it. A hulking mass, piled up like a bundle of hay, a head peeking out of the lump as if there was no body attached to it. Edward's eyes widened, heart drumming faster in his chest. Cold sweat scurried down his forehead. 'What is that?' And yet, he couldn't deny the pleading voice of his wife, sounding exactly as she did seven years ago. It couldn't possibly not be her. Something grave must have happened when she was gone, and that's why she was so afraid. Yes, that's most likely it.

So Edward gulped his nervousness down, and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Honey... I promise I won't run away from you... I would never run away from you."

A light, quiet wail whispered in the cold night, slowly dwindling down. A sniff sounded behind the shed. A long inhale and exhale belonging to powerful lungs.

Silence.

"... Alright."

And the heavy sound of something dragging over the earth.

A form encased in shadow peeked from the wooden walls over fourteen feet above him. Edward took a while to notice the large silhouette was a head. His wife's head. It was truly, truly her! Looking just like he remembered and – pale. So sickeningly pale. A dark and somber expression covered her face. Her eyes were baggy and downcast, white lips trembling. But more importantly, he couldn't understand why she has so high up.

"P-please..." - she uttered, almost to herself. - Please don't run..." Gargantuan claws appeared next to her, black, sharp nails curling over the creaking wood. A long, bony hand covered by charcoal scales. His wife pressed her eyes firmly shut. Edward took a step back, his mouth going dry. The sinking feeling in his stomach cut deeper. And then he saw why she was so high up.

The rest of her appeared under the pale moonlight, her form triple of a human size. A gigantic torso loomed over him like a small tree, covering him in her shadow. She wore nothing on her, long, mahogany hair covering her chest.

Then he looked down.

Black and yellow scales jutted out of her skin, covering her lower half, legs attached together in a single, cylindrical body that twitched and writhed as it came closer. The thick tail uncoiled behind the shed, extending further and further to Edward's right, so much so it could envelop around him if it moved. With loud thumps, Cordelia's massive form fell on the ground, hair obscuring her downcast face. Black talons gripped the soil as she pushed herself forward. Rough and coarse scales scraping against the earth as the hulking, round tail crunched the grass and lugged over it like a corpse dragging on the dirt. Rocks broke with a sickening "crunch" under its weight.

Edward's face contorted in shock. He took one, two steps back, eyes widening in horror, shaken to the core as his heart jumped in his throat. Pounding harder against his ribcage.

It was a gargantuan something, half snake, half something that resembled human. Resembled his wife. He mumbled incomprehensibly. Primal fear took over him. A crying, shaky voice resounded from the creature's mouth. A clawed hand the size of his head reaching out to him. "P-please... Edward..." He ran. He screamed bloody murder and dashed back towards his house, hearing it holler back his name. Tears fell from his eyes, desperation taking hold of his body. A deafening sound of thumps and scratches came from behind him, growing closer, coming for him.

"WAIT–!" Tha thing can’t be his wife. Whatever it was it could not be his wife. It shouldn't be his wife. It shouldn't be human. He ran through the house's corridors, left became right and up became down and the crunches behind him grew louder and louder and he had to hide, he had to hide but there was nothing in his room aside from the cold, old bed so he bolted, ran and ducked under it, mumbling shaky prayers, begging to heavens for his life. Begging that he was hallucinating. To not die to someone who looked so much like her.

That couldn't be real. He heaved. It can't be real, can't be real can't be real it can’t – He's gone crazy. Yes, that must be it. He's finally gone mad and that’s why.

But the cracks of the floorboards under the creature's weight sounded far too real for him to doubt. The scratching of the claws over the ground as it dragged its gargantuan body caused a fear too intense for him to doubt. The cracking of the walls as it squeezed itself inside felt too real for him to doubt. Edward clamped his mouth shut with a shaking hand, curling up under the bed and closing his eyes tight. If he remained immovable, if he remained silent, maybe it wouldn't find him. Maybe he wouldn't die. He gulped down a whimper that threatened to escape from his throat. Cordelia's voice resonated from the creature's mouth again. Weak, raspy, and grieving. It was a strategy to lure him out. Yes. That was probably it. It couldn't possibly be something else. Because that huge monster with crude scales couldn't be his wife, with soft skin and flowing hair, with her dress that billowed in the wind when they walked over green fields together. No. That thing could not be her. "Edward... Please, I-I..." She whispered under her heavy sobs. Loud thumps echoed outside the room. "I won't hurt you... Please believe me!"

The sobs that sounded so much like her broke his heart in half. But he remembered to what it belonged to. He would not fall for it. Even if he wanted to scream for help, knowing that no one would come. Even if a part of him wanted nothing more than believe it was all true and run towards its scaly arms. He gulped down his screams of fear, and remained silent. Frozen. Unmoving. He would not fall for it

The scrapes and scratches got louder. Scales hissed over the floorboards that chirred in protest.

"I'm not a monster. I'm not –" A claw unhinged itself from the floor and the creature raised itself up. A loud bump thundered on the ceiling, a shocked gasp echoed in the dry air. Edward clutched his eyes shut. Dust and debris fell on the ground. The monster laid down again, a heavy bang thundering in the silent house. The floorboards groaned as it settled on the ground.

"If you... If you look at me like that again, I-I think I'll go crazy... I can't stand it!"

Loud sobs filled the house. Edward flinched and clutched his eyes shut, breathing heavily, curling further inside himself. He resisted the urge to break down into tears.

The dragging and shuffling got heavier. The floorboards of his bedroom, the ones he was currently laid over, creaked in complaint of the weight being placed upon them. The sound got louder. Closer.

It was entering his room.

He sucked in a quivering gasp. Heart threatening to escape his throat, he shook as if the room was freezing cold, tears cascading down his face at the thought that he really could die now. He would die. He would die. Maybe he should. Maybe she should just end him.

He saw it. The black and yellow scales, shimmering as it moved. The snake body crawling as it reached the door, so massive it got stuck in the door frame. A push or two and it got free, the walls around it cracked, dust fell around him and a crunching sound reverberated in the room. Black claws scraped the ground, wood screeching in the deafening silence. A towering human body, pale torso as tall as him, laid down, auburn locks of hair trailing on the floor. The face obscured by its raised head.

It stopped moving. He looked at its skin with heaving breaths and widened eyes.

They remained still for what felt like an eternity. The only sound was his own heartbeat, his breathing and the creature's. The tail twitched and thumped against the walls with a loud noise. He flinched as his eyes darted back and forth, hearing the friction of scales against wood.

Silence.

She sniffed. And spoke first. "... When the civil war happened, we hid here once. You would wrap your arms around me, and we'd curl up together under the bed, praying that it'd protect us." – she whispered.

"– But even when I cried, even when we thought we would die, I still felt safe with you. Do you remember that, dear…?"

The sorrowful voice spoke of memories that a monster should not have. Edward felt cold. So cold, alone under that bed.

He closed his eyes tightly shut. Maybe, after a while, he wouldn't see her when he opened them. Hugging himself, Edward shuddered as a shiver crawled up his spine. Maybe he could still return to a normal life, where he didn’t hallucinate. Maybe he could still pretend none of this happened.

There was a shifting sound, and he sucked in a trepid breath. A thud, right in front of him. With his lips trembling, and teeth grinding against each other, Edward wondered if his death would be quick. But time stretched as the room fell into stifling silence, the monster's breathing ruffling on his face. It was right in front of him. He knew. He knew that he should just keep his eyes closed, waiting for his death. He knew that. His heart hurt inside his ribcage from pounding so hard, and his stomach sank lower with fear. He should close his eyes more firmly. He should just wait a while longer.

But instead, he opened them.

Her face. Her same crying face, if not for the magnified size and its greyish blue eyes with slitted pupils. A shadow of what once was her. His wife. The one he waited for so long. The one he imagined walking back to him as he sat by that porch every day. It did come back, as a monster, a ghost ready to haunt him, blame him for the pathetic man that he was, for not being able to prevent her from going missing. A reflection of what he lost. Evidence of his cowardice. A sign that he has gone mad.

That's what he wanted to believe.

But the face that resembled his wife so faithfully mirrored his expression of dread and grief. It covered itself in such humanity, with the exhausted eyes dripping with tears. With the mouth, when its pale lips parted as it sucked in a shaky breath, even if it revealed sharp teeth underneath. With its thick, auburn hair as it clung to her sweating face. It looked so distinctly human. So distinctly real. Not at all like a ghost. Not at all like a monster out to hunt him.

In that closeup by the gap under the bed, it just looked like his wife.

Edward’s breathing got less exasperated. His heart rocked less inside his chest. His tears dried as his widened eyes remained frozen on the figure before him. He glared at its mouth, as it opened to speak.

"Edward..." It whispered. So silently, so tender yet certain, just like the time when he had her by his side.

"... I am real."

The tears resurfaced, a mix of fear, hope and despair turned into quiet, then loud sobs, then muffled screams as Edward cried and curled up further under the bed, letting out years of frustration. Years of guilt as it made his chest hurt and his breathing to narrow. He couldn't hear her, who was sobbing on her own, as he drowned in the sorrows that leaked out of his weathered body like a dam that has been broken. Did he have her back? Could he really put a stop to this? He felt guilty. So guilty. Was that his fault? If he found her, would she have turned out like this? No, she wouldn’t. He knew she wouldn’t and that was why the tears wouldn’t stop. If the monster wanted to hurt him, Edward wouldn’t blame it, not even a little.

When he started to calm down, he didn't realize the creature was still there, in front of him, with tears gathered on its enlarged face. He regained his breath, steadily and gradually, refocusing his eyes on the grey blue irises. Her gaze softened, just like when she greeted him home after a tiring day, eyes inviting him for peaceful rest.

He needed that rest. More so than any other day.

"If I... If I move away, will you come out?"

She whispered so quietly Edward struggled to hear it. But it still sounded the same, that sweet, honeyed voice that said “I love you” with so much earnest and ease. But a part of him still doubted. His body still trembled under her alien gaze. Doubts echoed in his mind, and adrenaline pumped in his veins. If this was her, then how? Why? What kind of degenerate devil would do this to her?

But still, he wanted to believe... He did, but... He didn't want to die.

"Dear... If I wanted to hurt you, don't you think I'd already done so?"

There it was, her bolder side, the one that always made her win an argument, that scolded him sometimes but he always loved it when she did. The one that now made him snap out of it, and helped Edward realize that he didn't have any power in this situation from the very beginning. The creature was huge and could see him. Indeed, if it wanted it would have hurt him long ago. Edward repeated this in his head over and over until it was enough to clear his mind.

In a glimpse of calmness, he managed to speak in what was left of his hoarse voice. "Yes... You're right, honey." And she smiled. A relieved, sad smile, one that did not have any hope in it, but that was glad he at least spoke to her like a person. Like his wife. Even if it was only for a little bit.

She got up, the long claws visible for a second in Edward's field of vision. They recoiled towards the snake creature's chest as if it had touched a burning kettle, knowing he had seen its intimidating appendage. It shifted its body away and the scales glistened as it slithered towards the door. After a while, it stopped. The area in front of Edward was free to move now.

His heartbeat rocked louder. What if the moment he leaves it slices him open with those claws... – No. 'Snap out of it. Snap out of it.' he repeated in his head, recalling the events and the fact that if it was a predator after its prey, he was already too difficult to be bothered with. He would be fine, Edward assumed. He had to be.

And if all of that was a lie, then it was better that he died anyway, granting the sweet release of death instead of sinking into his madness.

Because if all that he saw this night was not real, then he really has gone mad.

Edward took a deep breath. One... Two... The snake creature remained still.

Three.

He scrambled away from the bed and sat up in a hurry, heaving like he had run a marathon. Eyes closed. Waiting for the inevitable.

It never came.

So he opened his eyes, coming face to face with the creature's scales stretching in the distance. His heart throbbed.

"I-it's okay, honey... You're doing great." She whispered, voice clogged by her own desire to break down into tears.

Edward took another deep breath. In… And out. No closing his eyes now. And slowly, he raised his head up, searching for the face of his beloved. Even if he was shaking from head to toe.

His eyes trailed up her body. Nervous and slim hands, covered by black scales, interlaced over her lap. The scales of her tail became thinner and thinner as he looked up, their color contrasting against the ivory skin of her human upper body. It was ashen, slim, the torso alone was as tall as he was. He looked to the chest concealed by her hair, mahogany and wavy, just like he remembered, although the strands were much longer and thicker than before. And finally, he reached it. The same sweet, tender face, looking down at him. The trembling lips struggled to show a reassuring smile, forcing her mouth shut in order to cover the fangs underneath it. Those elongated eyes, with thick eyelashes that fluttered, blinking away tears. The same straight nose. Those previously beautiful blue eyes, now a greyer shade and with pupils like a reptile's, yet with that human, longing glance, darting around Edward's face as she analyzed his every expression.

It was her. No doubt about that now.

Edward opened his mouth and closed it, struggling to form words. Thoughts spiraled inside his mind. Feelings of guilt, frustration, anger, indignation. Fear. Sorrow. Pain.

Yet hope. Above all it was hope.

Edward got up, not taking his eyes off hers.

That was no monster. It was, indeed, his wife.

"Oh, Cordelia, what have they done to you?"

His voice whispered, thick with sorrow. He looked up to see pools of tears splashing from Cordelia's face, a clear expression of relief. She sobbed, burying her face in her clawed hands, relieved that her husband called her by her name again. Relieved that he was here. Relieved that he didn't see her as a monster, at least for that moment. A piece of humanity she lost, a piece of her previous life that she missed, a piece of hope that was snatched away from her seven years ago and that she never thought she'd have again. It was returning for her.

He was returning for her.

Cordelia was surprised by a warm touch over her scaled lap. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the rough back of her hand, looking down with a gasp. Her husband was rubbing his hand over it, tiny and shaking, comforting her. An attempt to reach out.

"D-don't. They are hideous..." Tears flowed on her face.

‘Indeed, they were’, Edward thought. He never liked snakes, their scales always making his skin crawl whenever he found one in the farm. The feeling wasn't any different as he trailed his hands over her, goosebumps raised the hairs on his skin and he shuddered with each motion. Edward exhaled shakily. No matter how much he looked at it, even if everything felt unreal at the moment, he couldn’t deny who was in front of him.

"They are still you." He said.

Cordelia widened her eyes and Edward looked up at her with compassion on his face. Love, longing. They both yearned for that. For the same feeling to return to them. For the same life, that was so cruelly snatched away from them, to return as if nothing had gotten between them in the first place. Even if it was a pointless dream.

They fumbled awkwardly at what to do.

Edward wasn't sure how to proceed. His mind conjured images of him holding her tightly, back to her human form, like a dream manifesting. Yet the reality loomed over him and the long tail that filled his bedroom in multiple coils covered his skin with goosebumps, a knot tightening on his throat.

He looked up and confirmed it, Cordelia's unsure face was there. He’s not crazy. All of that was still her.

She looked away under his apprehensive gaze, turning deep red and ashamed of herself. Edward took a deep breath; she didn’t feel well and he needed to fix this. He looked down. Then looked up again.

"Can I hold you?"

The question took Cordelia aback. She backed away from him and widened her eyes. Her tail bumped on the cabinet and he twisted his neck towards the source of the sound, clearly flinching from the movement.

He was still terrified of her. Then, why...?

"You don't need to do this, Edward. You did great already –“

"No. I want to do this. If you're really you, I want to do this."

Cordelia looked down and saw Edward's determined face. Her heart broke silently inside her. Why he was so adamant in dealing with her, Cordelia didn't know. But gosh, if it wasn't for his fear and for her disgusting claws, she'd have held him close a long time ago. She missed it so much. How much she missed his strong embrace.

So she nodded, and he came closer.

Edward couldn't quite contain how much he was shaking. Couldn't contain his jolt when he touched her frigid skin, chills crawling down his spine. But despite this, he pushed on forward, kneeling over her scaled lap, glancing at how they shone even in the partial darkness. With silent fascination, Cordelia let her arms hover around him.

A moment hung between them.

And Edward latched onto her. He rested on her torso and enveloped his arms around her, as much as he could, as they barely reached her back. Cold. She was cold like a corpse. He rested his cheek against her stomach, shivering upon contact. Gosh, it was so cold. He wanted to pull away. He wanted to hold her closer. Cordelia didn't remember the last time she sensed so much warmth. She felt herself getting hot inside even when she thought she was not capable of feeling warm anymore. Edward snuggled closer to her chest, and she sighed, relishing in his contact. Gently, like she was cradling an injured bird, Cordelia enveloped her arms around him, careful not to hold him too tight or not to loom over him, either. Gosh, the way her arms completely engulfed him... She felt monstrous. Edward shrank upon contact and she started to let him go, fearing this was a bad decision, but the feeling of his hug getting tighter made her arms remain still.

They stayed like this for an amount of time, taking in each other’s presence. Edward heard his wife's strong heartbeat against him, which grounded him in his current predicament, but still... Maybe he'd blink and she'd be gone, or maybe something would finally reveal that he'd made all of that up. Cordelia's embrace got a little tighter, not in a way that was hurting him, but she shifted around and her shadow loomed over as she curled around him. Her arms closed the hug in, and his heart skipped a beat.

"I missed you." she croaked.

She leaned over Edward, pulling him closer. He sighed in sweet relief upon hearing her melodic voice, feeling exhaustion weighing down on him as his body relaxed. He sank in her gentle embrace, kissing the surface of the freezing cold skin.

"I missed you too, dear."

...

They were laying on their backs under the early morning light, on the floor of the same bedroom where everything happened. Cordelia's tail stretched way further outside the room, disappearing through the door. Edward rested on top of her, not after much insistence that he wrapped a warm blanket around him. He ran his fingers through her hair, dazed, letting the reality of the situation sink in. He wasn't exactly afraid now, but the memories of the night made his heart twist with a mix of dread and guilt. Edward needed to know. How bad was everything that happened to her? Too much happened, she was gone, and now he had her back. It felt unreal and too real at the same time. And yet, Edward needed answers. Maybe, just for a few minutes, he thought, they could stay like this, and pretend that nothing had happened, but he knew that curiosity would get the best of him. Cordelia looked down at her husband with tenderness, watching as he caressed her hair, as she avoided touching him with her claws. She noticed his pensive expression and frowned.

“Is something wrong?

Edward hesitated, looking for ways to phrase his question. "What happened that made you turn into this?" He asked finally, tone even, yet with seething rage building up inside his chest. "Who did this to you?"

Cordelia sighed, closing her eyes. All the memories surfaced in her head like a messy conjecture of disfigured images and sounds. She took a shuddering breath, and spoke.

"I regained memories of you first before I remembered my own name..."

#Amazing Writing!#This pulled on many heartstrings #I love them both #I care for them ;o;#Fantastic descriptions #Just aaah!!#This was such a treat to read!#:DDDDDDD #Very bittersweet and perfect spooky vibes too~

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