𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑. | ❝Everyone will end up leaving you at one point or another. But it's the ones that come back that are the most important.❞
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Naomi Jones has been left too many times to count.
Ever since her mother died, her father had...
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | TWO OUT OF THREE
Naomi sighed as she walked across the beach, her sword was in her hand as she was dragging it over the sand. It was leaving a path to her, but she didn't mind. She just wanted to take a walk, clearing her head.
She had finally managed to sneak away from the so called celebration, Peter was too busy playing his pipe and Alex and Felix were too busy, and too mesmerized by it to notice her sneaking away.
She stopped walking and looked at the sun that was going down, she grabbed her sword with her right hand and sat down on the grass. Naomi sighed in disappointment as she lightly grazed her finger over the engravings on it.
"Where did it go wrong?" She whispered to herself as she looked at the sword she got from her father, she shook her head and placed the sword next to her on the sand.
She knew where it went wrong, but that wasn't something that she could change. It was never in her hands, but her father's. He made his choice and even if he managed to come back into her life, she knew that she never will be able to fully forgive him.
She averted her eyes to the sun that was going down and squinted her eyes so that the sun light wouldn't completely blind her. Tomorrow would be it, tomorrow she will fight with Peter and tomorrow may be the day she goes home.
If you can call it a home, that is.
Naomi kept looking at the sun as she grabbed a pebble with her right hand, throwing it on the sea and smiling lightly when it skipped on the water a few times.
"Tilt your hand a bit," She heard somebody say from behind her, she hummed and turned her face to look at the person. Peter looked at the ground before walking towards her, he sat down and grabbed a pebble as well. "If you tilt your hand a bit more, it will come further."
He then threw the small rock onto the sea, and it did came further than Naomi's. Seems like he knew what he was talking about after all.
Naomi nodded absently and looked at the sun again, "I'll keep that in mind for next time." She mumbled.
She curled her legs up against her chest and laid her head on top of her knees as she watched the sun going down. Her eyes suddenly widening when she thought she saw a ship, she looked up and shook her head, calming down a bit when she didn't see it again.
Peter frowned as he looked at her, only now taken notice of the sword that was laying on the sand in between them. He reached out for it to take it but stopped when Naomi said, "Don't even try it."
"Okay." He mumbled awkwardly and took his hand back.
Naomi sighed and looked at the sword, she despised it yet she treasured it. It was the last thing of her father and even though she hated that man and wanted nothing more than to forget about him, she just couldn't. He was still her father, if she wanted it or not.
