Brothers and Sisters are Always Fighting

For once she wasn’t high. She hadn’t had time to sneak off the Moaning Myrtles bathroom yet the only place she could think of where no one ever went especially not the professors. She looked around seeing no one around and picked up her knapsack which held at lease three vials of spice, her books which she hadn‘t been using lately, her cigarettes, and a flask with some alcoholic drink she no longer remembered the name of. She looked out at the lake then took out a cigarette instead of the Spice and then her lighter was next. Putting the cigarette to her lips like she had seen her family members do so many times she lit it inhaling the smoke. Once before she had told Elijah to slap her if she had ever smoked and now she did.

Just as he heard rumours about his own trysts, lately, Elijah had been hearing of his sister's escapades. Needless to say, he had not been pleased. It seemed as if their father had no intention of doing anything, though. He was quite happy in Bulgaria doting upon his grandchildren and making up for lost time with them. Elijah just wished he'd do the same with his own children. He knew that would never be the case, though. Viktor had found a new purpose for himself and like always, his children were left shrouded in darkness. This time though, he didn't have Marina to excuse himself with.

It was the orange glow that alerted Elijah to his sister's presence. He'd checked the bathroom he'd heard she'd been found in but she had not been there. He'd tried numerous other places as his anger grew and was relieved somewhat when he found her in the grounds. That did not mean that he'd forgiven her, though. She was meant to be the one that was going to go somewhere. She was a child and now, she was a child caught up in something that was out of her own control. Elijah wasn't sure he could forgive her for it either.

The Bulgarian kicked the dirt at his sister's feet as he appeared before her. He glared, finding that the anger he thought he'd quelled had bubbled up again.

"Get up," He hissed, his voice filled with the accent he was beginning to lose. Once again it was thick, alluring, sexy and very, very Bulgarian.

Cecilia looked at the feet that appeared in front over her. The person that they where attached to hissed at her to get up. She looked up at her brothers face as she flicked away the ashes from her cigarette. “why should I?” she asked putting the cigarette to her lips once more. She wasn’t going to get up just because he told her to. He wasn’t her boss and he didn’t even care about her. Elijah looked pissed and Cecilia smiled. She loved seeing him pissed. His anger brought another side out of her. Last time they had spoke she had told him to go to hell. That was a while back though.
She looked up at the sky then the water and stood up. Not because Elijah had told her to but because she was getting ready to go to Moaning Myrtles bathroom. “Good bye Elijah,” she said putting her knap sack on her shoulder then putting out her cigarette by throwing it on the ground and then placing her foot on it. Her foot moved as if she where squashing a bug. Cecilia then started to walk towards the castle.

Insolence was something Elijah had always hated. Of course he was insolent himself, naturally, but that didn't mean he had to take it from anyone else -- especially from his own sister. She was incredibly pleased with herself and that only riled Elijah more. He failed to realise that her goal was to upset him. Just seeing her place the cigarette against her lips was enough to make him want to throttle her.

The Krum trait of invincibility was coming through and rearing its ugly head rather abruptly within Cecilia. She was falling apart and using a hazy mask of drugs to get her through it. Elijah was guilty of the same but he knew when to stop. He liked a drink, he was the first to admit that and he was also first to admit the fact that he couldn't function without nicotine. Drugs, however, didn't like him and the feeling as mutual. He'd had Keith's 'Spice' for a while and just like the first time he'd tried, he put it away and returned to his bottle of wine.

"Because I damn well told you too!" Elijah snapped, clenching his fists by his sides.

She ignored him though, and continued to smoke. Elijah felt his blood begin to boil in his veins and as she got up, he felt something rupture between them, perhaps the remains of their relationship. He was angry because he cared and he hated her for blowing him off like she was.

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" He shouted at her, the words exploding and leaving his mouth like a lion's roar. "Come here! NOW!"

“You can’t make me,” Cecilia called over her shoulder and keep walking. He didn’t scare her, he wouldn’t. “Your not my boss. Dad is and you know just as well as I do that he doesn’t care about us. Just like you don’t care about me.” she paused for a minute when he said ‘Come here! Now!’ she turned to face him and crossed her arms “make me,” she shouted at him then turned to walk away again. She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she walked “maybe I should get my hair cut. That would probably piss Elijah off. Though not as much as if I went back to staving my self.” she said to her self a small smile on her face. Elijah was pissed and she was happy. She was looking forward to her time alone in Myrtles bathroom. That is if the ghost would leave her alone.

"Fine then!" He hollered. "Die for all I care! Merlin knows you won't be a loss if this is what you've become. You're an embarrassment!"

Elijah was hideously hypocritical. He could remember his mother saying something along those lines when she'd found him in Paris wrapped around a non-descript female that Sunday morning. He'd put up one heck of a fight and enough words had been thrown to see them through a millennia. Elijah had listened though. In retrospect it was probably the right time to leave as well. He'd listened and he'd done as he'd been told in the end.

Elijah didn't think that could be applied to Cecilia, though. She'd do whatever the hell she wanted. She was wrapped up in something out of her control. What she failed to realise was that although she felt strong, she was at her weakest. He didn't want her to be taken advantage of but if that was how she wanted her life to be run then Elijah wasn't going to claim responsibility for her anymore.

"You're pathetic."

Cecilia stopped walking once again and turned to face Elijah she shook her head slightly and sat down on the grass next to a tree. There where tears in her eyes though Elijah would never realize that. He didn't know how he could up set here so easily with such simple words when he meant those words. Cecilia dug in her bag for a vile of spice and took the cork out of the vial. She looked at Elijah then drank the liquid drug. she placed the empty vial back then took out her cigarettes once again and her flask. she opened the flask and took a swig of the liquid in side of it. she then lit another cigarette. "No respect for any one. At least I have respect for every one but you and myself," she muttered to her self putting the cigarette to her lips and breathing in the nicotine.

She'd be disowned. Actually, Elijah would see to it that she was. His antics were about all the family could put up with. He didn't think that they'd appreciate Cecilia going off the rails. Their grandmother must have been rolling in her grave. Kerri had firm beliefs as to what a Krum woman should be. She was disappointed in Marina and in Kalina yet they showed willing to be the Krum women she wanted them to be. It was the likes of Anelia who really set a precedent as she was a born and bred Krum woman.

That blood was mostly watered down as she married but it didn't matter. She and those born after her were descendants and possessed Krum blood that they had every right to flaunt and enjoy. With that though, came responsibility. Elijah didn't know what would happen if the paparazzi got their hands on this or on pictures. Those pictures could prompt far more than a thousand words.

"You need to sort yourself out." He told her with a scowl.

After Cecilia had drank most of the liquid that her little flask held she got up and walked back towards Elijah putting out her cigarette on the way. “you have a lot to learn.” she muttered wanting to punch him in the arm but not sure of the out come of that. Her eyes where the weird blue color, thanks to the spice. “you can be an awful person towards others.” she glared at him. “you don’t give a crap about any one about your self and looking good.” she spat at him. Spinning to walk away again she stumbled a little. “You know I was thinking about dieing my hair blonde,” she shot back at him, “what do you think about that?” she may have sounded like she didn’t care but she did. She valued his opinion to much. She hadn’t meant it when she told him to go to hell. She had just been enraged at the time.

“You don’t give a crap about any one but yourself and looking good.”

Elijah's eyes widened slightly and he stepped back, as if he'd been burned. Inwardly, he recoiled and something rather poisonous began to feed his mind with replies. All Elijah could really fathom was the fact that clearly his sister didn't know him as well as she should have done.

It was understandable that she didn't. He'd fallen off the face of the Earth (as far as they were all concerned) for a year and in that time he'd grown up. To have his little sister tell him that he had a lot to learn was an insult in itself. He was not the one wasting away on drugs. No, that was her and she had the gall to say that he had to learn.

If she wanted to blank herself out and turn her back on her family then he'd help her along.

"What is this all in aid of?" He asked her wearily. "I am not self-obsessed, Cecilia. If you think that then you really don't know me. You, however, seem to be. Why are you making a point of doing this? What does it achieve?"

When she mentioned dying her hair blonde, Elijah sneered.

"Whose name will you be taking in the event that you're disowned then?"