Mina was sitting at her desk, flanked on either side by books she had yet to open. Between them, a bottle of cherry red nail polish was open. All her attention was absorbed in painting the nails of her right hand as Syn announced that he would be gone for a few days. Normally, he would leave Sasha with her. She lifted her head in time to see him rap a knuckle against the book on her nightstand, telling her to study before he disappeared in a cyclone of darkness. “Okay . . .” She muttered, not thinking anything of it till Sasha hadn’t returned. She had gotten so used to having the massive black wolf curled up at her bed side, nearly tripping over her on the way to the bathroom at night. Even Syn’s presence was missed. There was no one to ask a thousand and one questions during a movie or give her a hard time about inappropriate footwear. The week seemed to crawl by without them, but she was looking forward to spending time with Oliver.<br/><br/>After exams, which she had managed to study for a few days ahead of time, she traversed the beautiful gardens behind her home. The sun was setting, and the blossoms were beginning to settle into buds for the evening, the vines were retreating and the animals were finding their homes. As usual, the life within the gardens acknowledge her in passing, staying out long enough to witness her as she walked by. Mina would have put a Disney princess to shame with how much nature adored her presence. She moved along the stony path, following it even when it became sparse and uneven, then non-existent. Soon she was surrounded by towering trees where only tiny trickles of light penetrated the thick branches, full with deep green leaves. Her swift steps eventually brought her to the tree house, a dilapidated structure high in the tree tops. Claimed by Mother Nature over the years, it had overgrown vines and moss crawling up the sides. The ladder that they made had fallen, becoming a death trap with missing steps and weak integrity.<br/><br/>“This won’t do at all,” she muttered to herself as she set down her bag. She outstretched her hands with a sigh. Tiny spheres of light gathered on the blades of grass, lifting into the air slowly where they delicately kissed the old tree. They buzzed through the structure, and everything they touched was invigorated with new life. The moss turned to wall of fragrant flowers, the vines withdrew themselves from the planks which had been reinforced by the energy that permeated the tree house. Fully restored to its old glory, and improved by Mina’s growth and skill, she was certain that Oliver would be surprised. She climbed up the ladder and settled in, waiting as the sun set and darkness fell over the woods.<br/><br/>Oliver arrived, his mouth agape as he stared upon the old tree house. It was magnificent, certainly not the weather-worn structure he anticipated. He knew that Mina had restored it. Only she could create something so . . . perfect. In that moment he seethed to know that he could never achieve such a result. He could see the flicker of candlelight in the hollow windows. He knew she was there, waiting. He could bring himself to move, though. The last place he wanted to be was surrounded by a reminder of his own mediocrity, sitting beside someone who didn’t struggle for greatness the way he did. After what felt like an eternity, he back away and went home.<br/><br/>Hours had passed and Mina had sent three texts already. When it was approaching midnight, she knew that he wasn’t coming. The little witch cared about so very little in the world, Oliver being one of those exceptions. Where others could not hurt her with words, or wound her with their disregard, he could. Tears stung at the back of her eyes, gathering on her lower lids while she tried to contain them. Outside, the fluffy white flowers began to wilt and decay, the grass browned, and the vines began to reclaim her slowly dying masterpiece. When she was sad, nature was sad with her, one of many reasons she kept her emotions in check behind sarcasm and humor.<br/><br/>Syn was right. Oliver was changing, being distant and cold.