thegreatchelso
She stands at the back of the empty church, burning under the glares of all the idols - Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, all in a pretty little row - and as she's tapping the pew beside her she remembers when she believed all of this. She remembers the time before her atheism, those bleak, meaningless days. She was a zombie. And now she is free.
Repeat is when someone says or does something over and over again. Repeat is also a setting on your iPod. But I can never put my songs on repeat, because it annoys me, and whenever I get past the good part of a song, I just click the "next" button because I don't want to listen anymore. So yeah, basically there's no way I could repeat a song over and over again and not get annoyed with it, unless William Beckett is singing, because William Beckett is an angel.
"You take one end, and I'll take the other."
"What's the point of this again?"
"I just wanna see how long it is, okay?"
She huffed, but obliged, holding one end of the thread between her thumb and forefinger. As he backed away slowly, the thread elongated, stretching to its true length.
And she didn't know why, but the sight of him so far away made her heart ache more than it should have.
Darkness. Only darkness. It had been days since she'd seen the light. She was still bleeding, she knew - the rusty smell of her blood took up the entire cell. She tried crying. She tried calling for help. But the only thing she could manage were heartbroken, dry sobs - painfully inaudible.
It was disheartening, really, to look down at the map spread across the table, and then realize that he was so far away from where he needed to be. He still had half an ocean to travel, and it had already been months. At this rate, she was probably already betrothed to some other fellow, and had forgotten about him completely. He fervently hoped that he was still near to her heart, even if he was far from her body.
"She's dead."
Anne froze, turning slowly to face the messenger. It was her brother George, who stood in the doorway, smiling brightly.
"She's...dead?" Anne repeated in awe.
"She's dead. And now, sister, you are truly Queen of England; Anna Bolina."