Eleonore’s POV
“Eleonore?” I turned my head to see Logan and Mason calling out to me. “That you?”
‘No,’ I grumbled down the pack link towards them only. ‘It’s a gargoyle in the shape of me, leave me alone. I’m a statue.’
“Yup, that’s her.” Logan called out brightly as the two of them came up to me and stood in front of me. “Why are you pretending to be a gargoyle, you weirdo–? Oh, sh*t are you crying?”
‘No,’ I said as I turned away from them. ‘Gargoyles don’t cry, they’re made of stone.’
“Call me crazy,” Mason said as he turned my head back to them from the top of my crown on my head, “but last I checked you weren’t made of stone. You bruise pretty easily, actually.” I made a face as he pulled down the sleeve of his sweater and wiped at my face, from the fresh tears rolling down my face and the wet trails still on my cheeks.
“Yeah, no, you do actually– it’s kind of funny actually. You know one time I saw you knock your leg on a table, and literally the next day there was–”