Of course he would be the one to burst my bubble.

I was doing just fine. I had no worries.

Then comes along Zephyr to disrupt any semblance of peace as always.

Tempest's heavy footed steps carry her down random hallways in the maze of a mansion.

Her mind too occupied by resentments toward Zephyr Vallencia to notice where she was headed.

Subconsciously, she avoided any personal wings where she had a high chance of encountering an elder supernatural being.

Instead she stuck to the common rooms and facilities within the mansion.

And that's when she first truly saw him.

Hair as angelically white as the rest of their family's and skin translucent like her own.

His hair was slicked back with sweat Tempest guessed, as he spent all of his energy sprinting on a treadmill in the far corner of the room.

He towered way above her like his younger brother did, a feat considering her height.

Yet his face somehow managed to seem impossibly more stern than his little brother's.

If I cared I'd probably be offended he didn't join the welcoming comity, Tempest pondered as she leant against the wall, arms crossed.

For once in her life she found herself wanting to be the interrogator.

To shoot a few questions his way and settle her confusion.

What did he have against a baby he'd never even met?

Surely he of all people should be elated.

Tempest's streak of silence is threatened like never before when the Angel turns his head in her precise direction.

Because he stumbles over his feet and slams down on the emergency stop button not having expected her to be the Angel staring him down.

The dramatic reaction raised more questions in her mind than ever.

Sure Valentine could sense the presence of an Angel being one himself, but over the course of the past few days, that presence he felt looming over his shoulder constantly was his mother's or Milos'.

He corrected his stance and spun on his feet, turning to bolt out of the door on the other end of the room.

Like brother like sister I guess, Tempest notes, realising she'd just done the exact same thing to Zephyr in the living room.

But what reason did Valentine have to hate her guts?

She'd love to know.

But she could wait.

Chasing after him or anyone for the sake of petty grievances wasn't something in her nature.

So she turned herself and continued on her mindless exploring of the mansion.

•

It was only once she made eye contact with the aged version of herself did she realise her grave mistake.

She even internally groaned for not being more cautious to avoid this delusional woman in particular on her walk.

Their last conversation was frustrating enough to Tempest and it certainly didn't end well for her mental state.

The lady's face lights up as their eyes connect for the first time since that conversation.

"My beautiful girl." She starts, rising from the chair in the study.

The setting wasn't very fitting for her, was the first thing Tempest thought.

Her elegant gowns and magical aura contradicted the seriousness of the bold colours and academic setting of the office looking area.

"How are you feeling little Imogen?" She gently smiles.

Not my name, Tempest fights hard to refrain from responding with.

Esme takes the silence as a response and nods her head.

"It's okay, you don't have to speak to me. Not until you're ready." Esme as patient and compassionate as ever, assures.

"I was just finishing up my research on dissociative identity disorders so that I can better support you. I understand it may be months before you feel like talking again and I just want you to know that it's perfectly okay. Nobody here is going to force you to. Not under my watch." Her light tone switches to a determined and protective declaration.

And Tempest doesn't find her repulsive at all in that moment.

In fact, there's only one person to ever understand and accept her behaviours so well and she's six feet under.

How ironic that her mother was acting so similarly to the closest woman she's ever had to a mother.

Perhaps if they'd searched a little harder for Tempest, she could have had Esme's positive influence growing up.

Maybe then she wouldn't experience months after episodes being so sensitive and mute to the world.

But then she wouldn't have met Adriana. Her real life Angel.

Esme's eyes begin to well with more tears and Tempest begins to fidget her fingers, itching to bolt away from the uncomfortable and unfamiliar display of emotion.

Esme could sense the regrets radiating from Tempest and it broke her heart all over again.

They were the same regrets she shared. The wishing that they could have had a life together instead of meeting like this, as strangers.

"You don't ever have to tell me what you've been through my girl..." Esme chokes out, her hands constantly reaching out towards Tempest and then falling back to her sides when her self restraint kicks in.

"...but just know that if you ever want to... I won't judge you. And I won't look at you as anything other than the strong and stunning young woman you are."

Her cheeks shine with her fresh tears.

And Tempest stares into her honest blue eyes feeling a strange sense of trust for the strange lady.

Perhaps that was her first glimpse of the connection they claim to feel with her.

A/n. I forced this one out of me guys in hopes of getting back on track so hopefully it's good idk lmk😭