It all began with a whisper . . .
one vaguely simple whisper that held no meaning but also so many possibilities . . .
It was a seemingly normal day in the life of Angelique Bouchard. Businesswoman and seductress, she was the metaphorical queen of Collinsport, the richest woman in Maine as well as the most beautiful and oldest. Though she was believed to be only thirty in age she was actually two-hundred twenty-five. Of course, her witch-hood was something she kept hidden at all costs. Descended from a long line of witches and warlocks only the purest of magical blood coursed throughout her pretty little veins. To any outsider the slender blonde had anything anyone could possibly want ~~ except for one thing. She did not have an equal with her ~~ she did not have a mate by her side.
With long and soft pale blonde hair, an enviously perfect figure, a voice that rivaled the sweetest of honey, silky alabaster skin and icy pale blue eyes that could lure and ensnare any man or woman she wanted it could not be said that she was unable to attract anyone. Admirers she had many, lovesick fools followed after her in the manner a lost puppy would it’s mother. Why had she not yet settled down with a lucky individual? Her reasoning was simple ~~ Angelique had met that one special person many years ago, but had wiped their memory in order to protect them.
Julia Hoffman remembered nothing of Angelique Bouchard and that had caused the witch to shut down, her heart blackened and cracked. In over two centuries worth of life she had experienced unthinkable hardships but nothing had ever hurt her as much as losing her best friend. She was the one to blame, just as she was going to be the one who reunited them once again.
The witch had originally wiped Julia’s memory to protect her from the approaching darkness that would have undoubtedly killed the young Hoffman girl simply because she was closer to Angelique than anyone had ever been ~~ closer than even Barnabas Collins had been. She knew things that would have been used against her magical best friend. So when the whispers began, she hadn’t assumed anything about Julia being the mystery woman to whom was so often referred. How could she? It had been over a hundred years since the parting of ways - longer than any mortal lifetime. and yet she still had not forgotten the big doe-like brown eyes that haunted her dreams to no end. Angelique didn't think about the possibility of Julia being immortal too.
As she walked down the surprisingly crowded sidewalks of her beloved Collinsport it struck her as odd that there were so many people bustling about, but no matter how crowded the streets or busy the people, they all took notice when the confident Angelique strutted past, her signature high-heeled boots clacking on the concrete underfoot. As she waved at the people who called out to her she suddenly collided with a smaller body, her briefcase clattering to the ground. ‘Watch where you’re going, you da--” the stinging remark that was ready to lash out died on her tongue when her gaze met the eyes of the startled person before her.
Doe-brown met icy-blue.
“Angie . . . ?” only one person had ever called her Angie before, and that person was supposed to have died over a hundred years ago, and yet here she was breathing ~~ very much alive.
“Julia? Is it really you?” the answer she received was familiar arms wrapping around her tiny waist, familiar eyes filling with tears as they recognized the witch, a familiar woman whispering her name over and over. Having completely forgotten ~~ or simply not caring ~~ that they were still in the middle of the sidewalk Angelique took Julia’s face into her hands and kissed her longingly, their lips fitting together in the same way they had all those years ago.
The whispers in her ear finally ceased, content as a whole new whisper surrounded her: