6 years later
Christian had indeed kept his promise about joining the Bohemian revolution, much to his father's anger and disgust.
"No, there is absolutely no way I can allow you to do something as idiotic and preposterous as this!" Thomas scolded.
"Father, I'm an adult now, you can't control me like some like puppet. I'm not a child, I'm not your little prodigy, and I am never under any circumstances working for the family business!" Christian shouted back, shoving more of his belongings into a luggage bag.
"My son, you wound me'" his father said in mock hurt. "If you leave, do not expect to return. I'll have no child of mine following such hellish lifestyle!"
With a grunt, Christian turned away from his father, ignoring him. If he didn't want him around, so be it. He could care less what that atrocious man think, he was gonna be a world famous author, and follow the life he wanted. In Paris, his dreams would come true. He would find love and live how he had wanted since he was small. Yes, everything was gonna be perfect. No marvelous. No, perfectly marvelous. He should write that down.
But then, a thought crossed his mind, one that made him feel an awful pang of guilt.
"Estella!" he called from his room. He heard the quick little footfalls upon the wooden floor before a head covered in curly locks flew I front of the doorway.
"Yeah, Chris?" The little girl replied in her usual upbeat tone. She, now nearly 11, hadn't grown all that much(most likely due to her past illness) and her brown ringlets ran down past her shoulders and rested on her back, spreading out in every which way. Her violet eyes sparkled with the gleam of the brightest stars and held the excitement of one just discovering the wonders of life. Her skin was often covered with bruises and scrapes from her misadventures, and decorated with paint from her many childish artworks.
"Hey kid, I need to tell you something very important, come here". He picked her up and set her on the dresser in his room, her legs swung wildly as she anxiously waited for the news, her head tilted slightly in curiosity. His heart clenched when he thought of was he was about to say. "You know I love you more than anything right?" He asked. She nodded and smiled at him brightly, giggling.
"Of course, you're the best and silliest brother in the world!"
Oh, how could he do this to her? He just had to say it. "I'm going to Paris tomorrow night at sunset". The young girl paused for a minute, seemingly taking in the new information.
"Okay, when are you coming back?"
Christian felt his breath catch in his throat. "I'm not," he choked out.
The girl's smile fell, and her short temper flared. "What the hell do you mean you're not!? You have to come back! You can't leave!" She cried out, eyes beginning to fill with big tears.
The young man felt wetness begin to spill down his cheeks and struggled to hold back a sob. "Listen, Father doesn't want me to return. I cannot," he stopped unable to keep his voice from breaking. The inevitable then happen. The girl said not a word and she pushed past Christian and stormed out of the room, and eventually, out of the manor. He knew exactly what she was doing, she had begun to cry. And ever since he had known her, she hated showing weakness. She hid pain with anger. Christian felt defeated as he stood alone in the center of his room.
"She'll come around, just you wait dear," Mrs. James said soothingly, putting her arm around him. Christian said nothing, just stared at the ground below him, hoping it could give him the answers to his questions.
"She'll be alright, everyone in this town adores her. And she's a very resourceful girl, a night or two on her own won't harm her," she said optimistically.
"I'll stay here until she returns. I couldn't live with myself if something, anything, happened to her," Christian said, feeling extremely guilty. He knew how much she looked up to him, he knew how much she loved him. She was the perfectly beautiful, adoring baby sister. Her heart was full of kindness and love that could brighten up the darkest of his days, and he repays her by leaving the country.
"No, this will be the only boat out of England for a while, a storm is predicted to be near. It would be too dangerous to travel.
And you and I both know your father isn't gonna let me buy another ticket for you, and you don't have the money to get one on your own. You must go, it's what you wanted since you were just a boy. Stella will understand, she loves you very much, you just know how she is when she gets riled up. She's a wild little thing, that's all, it'll all be alright." She placed a comforting hand on the boys back as he held onto her embrace. 'Mamas boy' people would always say.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Estella sat up high in a tree branch as she looked out to the moon sparkling in the mirror that was the stagnant water of the lake.
Ma la mia stella, lassù nel cielo
Presto ci manderà un
salvator per tutti noi
E ache per quelli in fondo al mar..
The words flowed from lips as her youthful face because once again damp with salty tears. How could Christain lace her like this, her only brother, doesn't he know he's all she has. They've always been together, ever since he found her over six years ago. Always incredibly close. She couldn't bear the thought of him leaving her, she just wanted her big brother to be there by her side and sing her lullabies forever.
Then a brilliant, slightly evil idea struck her mind, and a mischievous grin spread across her face.
"All aboard to Paris," yelled the ship's captain. Christian quickly headed towards the large, almost cruise-like ship, when he got the strangest gut feeling inside of him. Nothing formidable was to come, but he still felt like the gods were trying to warn him. Not a strange sinking feeling, pun intended, just something telling his things wouldn't go exactly to plan.
Nevertheless, he shook the thought away and continued boarding the boat. Hours passed as he sat restlessly in his cabin until he decided he could no longer sit still. He needed to get out of this stuffy room, and as his stomach promptly informed him, he needed to eat.
Not much later, he returned from the sip cafeteria line with a decently sized plate of food. As he walked around, looking for a place to sit, he heard a familiar voice.
"Christian have you ever tried ice tea, I heard its become very popular in the Americas now."
"No I haven't Stell," he said, dropping and shattering the plate "ESTELLA!'
Christian paced his room while the young girl sat on the edge of his bed. "How the actual fu….." she looked at him with innocent eyes. "how are you here?" he whispered loudly.
"Well, whatever it was, I definitely did not involve me sneaking on board and accidentally locking a maintenance worker in a supply closet. Also don't go downstairs" she spoke nervously and gave her notorious childlike smile that always seemed to get her out of trouble.
Christian massaged his temples and sighed in exasperation at the tiny girl before him. He looked back down at her to see the oh so dreaded "you're about to feel really really guilty face"
"Okay okay, you're lucky I love you so much, but you have a lot of explaining to do." Christain have in and say down next to the girl.
"I know you love me, and I love you. That's why I couldn't lose you, you're all I have" she said honestly, and the boy knew it.
'Man this kid is laying it on thick' he thought. "What am I going to do with you Stell" h breathed out.
"You can always take me to live in Paris with you".
"What choice do I have. No, no. The second this boat docks I'm buying you another ticket and you're going straight back to England".
"And how are you gonna do that? Neither of us have enough money, and I have no belongings with me. Not even my sketch book. And mother and father wouldn't like me being alone a a ship, they'd be even angrier than if I went to live you with. At least with you we know I'm safe," Stella retorted.
"I hate that you're right," he paused "Fine, you can come to Paris with me, but the second I can, I'm sending you home." It felt weird to say it. Home. He would never once again be "home", at least not the home he grew to know so well. And Estella, he wondered if she even fully understood that word. There were still so many things she never spoke about. "Come hear," he sighed and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm not mad at you, terrified, but never angry. It'll be okay, we'll be okay". So that's how they stayed for hours. Eventually, when the sun began to say its nightly goodbye, Christian had sacrificed his bed so the child could be comfortable, and sat in a chair for the remainder the night. As he was left only with his thoughts, he began to feel guilty about their situation. She had only followed him on here in the first place because she loved him so much, and that's how thye had always been, from from the very beginning. They were always together, he could still remember when it all started.
"She's not well, not well at all. There's not much we can do for her. Keep her comfortable, that's all", spoke an unfamiliar voice.
"Poor thing, will she survive the night?" Christain knew that voice to be his mothers.
"There's no telling, especially with her being out in the bitter cold so long. Shes in Gods hands now," spoke the man. He packed up his bagged and gave one more sympathetic look too the ailing girl before leaving the room. Christain saw his parents swiftly followed the stranger out of the hallway and down the grand stairwell, presumably to pay him.
The young teen peeked his head curiously around the door and into the spare bedroom to look upon the tiny girl laying snugly under the comforter. She had blankets up to her chin and appeared to be sleeping. She looked almost peaceful if it weren't for how terribly still and pale she looked. Chris quietly crept into the room, careful not to wake the sleeping child. But his delicate actions proved useless, as she was then awakened by a force he had no control of, a rather harsh coughing fit. Thinking quickly, he pulled out a clean white handkerchief that we was glad his mother always had him carry, and pressed it to her soon bloodied lips. When it was over, she let out a tiny whimper and looked up at him with large but thankful eyes.
The mixture of fear, pain and gratitude in her intense violet orbs shook the boy to his core, and affection grew In his heart. As he searched his mind for a way to comfort the sick child, his thoughts settled on a memory. His mother used to sing to me whenever he was hurt or sick or had suffered a night terror.
Theres such a sad love, deep in your eyes
A kind of pale jewel, open and close
Within your eyes, I'll place the skies, within your eyes
A soft smiled formed on her little face, and her wide eyes seemed to brighten up and loose some of their fogginess. His song was working. He stepped closer to her, and sat down on the soft bed.
As thr pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you
Every thrill is gone, wasn't too much fun at all
But I'll be there for you
As the world falls down…
Christain brought his song to a close when he Noticed Estellas eyes had slipped shut, and he breathing had relax some. She had fallen asleep to his lullaby. He stood up and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, smiling proudly at his accomplishment, and walked over to the corner of the room to sit in a large plush chair. For the rest of the night, there he stayed. When she woke gasping and coughing, he repeated his earlier routine. Sitting in the darkness, resisting the urge to sleep, the doctors earlier words kept slipping into his mind.
" She's in gods hands now"
hours later, he slowly opened his eyes, awaked by the warm sunlight that has snuck passed the curtains over the window. He calmly stretched his arms and yawn, but soon was stricken with horrible panic. He had fallen asleep. His eyes quickly darted over towards the now empty bed, and he felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest. Frantically, he got up and sprinted out of the room and bounded down the stairs, nearly tripping over his feet I the process. He came to a halt and felt his heart stop at what he saw.
There sitting in a stuffed rocking chair, swaddled in plenty of warm blankets, sat Stella, with a ceramic mug pressed to her lips.
She pulled the cup away and gave Christain an adorable smile, filled with innocence and gratefulness. "Hot Chocolate," she spoke in a weak voice, but a voice nonetheless. The young boy felt tears well I his eye, and he let out a relived chuckle. She was going to be okay, everything was going to be okay.
*End Of Flashback*
No one could figure out how the young girl had managed to survive that night, they all chalked it up to God or some other miraculous work from heaven. But the two both knew how, and from then, they'd been as close and two could be. Their bond was unbreakable, not even by death itself.
Christain was brought back from his memories when he heard a rather oud snore from his little sister. He smiled at the sound, and waked back over to her and placed a kiss atop her head, and messed up her already wild hair.