08-23-2020, 06:50 PM
“I know when you go
down all your darkest roads
I would have followed all the way
to the graveyard.”
down all your darkest roads
I would have followed all the way
to the graveyard.”
She wonders if he will hate her, eventually.
She wonders if once she disappears from here if he will think of her in disgust, if her face infiltrating his dreams will be met with rage. If he will come across her in the meadow or the forest and she will see that familiar, hardened disappointment on his face.
She has never been good at staying, but it has never mattered because so few actually wanted her to.
But he is too kind compared to the rest. He reminds her of Skellig, and she is so selfish, so love-starved, that she does not stop to think of how trying to love him is going to hurt him. She just knows that he holds her so close when everyone else pushed her away, and though she had warned him this would not be forever - had warned him that his future did not hold her in it - she was doing nothing to make him think her mind could not be swayed.
His teasing makes her laugh, a low hum in the back of her throat when she presses her lips again to his jaw. "You will see what I mean the longer you're with me," and she knows she is doing it again, letting him think that her not forever could lead to eternity, but she cannot seem to stop herself. She dips her head again beneath his, her cheek resting against his chest. She can feel his breath as it fans across the other side of her neck, and for a moment, she relishes in the way that feels, warm and consistent against her skin.
Her lips trail across the slope of his shoulder, considering his question in a heavy kind of silence. She has always run, ever since Dhumin left; ever since she lost the only thing she was ever tethered to. He had been her sun and moon and stars, and without him, she never quite found her way again. He took with him everything that she had been, everything she had been told to be, and when given a chance to build herself up from nothing, she had failed.
“Nothing,” is what she tells him at first, a lightly spoken lie, before a pause, and she adds softly, “and also everything.”
She does not stop touching him, does not lift her warm lips from his cold skin. She kisses his chest where his heart beats, feeling the pulse of it against her lips. “My life is a string of numerous mistakes; most of them brought on by myself. I suppose someday I will either finally outrun them, or just stop making them.”
She wonders if once she disappears from here if he will think of her in disgust, if her face infiltrating his dreams will be met with rage. If he will come across her in the meadow or the forest and she will see that familiar, hardened disappointment on his face.
She has never been good at staying, but it has never mattered because so few actually wanted her to.
But he is too kind compared to the rest. He reminds her of Skellig, and she is so selfish, so love-starved, that she does not stop to think of how trying to love him is going to hurt him. She just knows that he holds her so close when everyone else pushed her away, and though she had warned him this would not be forever - had warned him that his future did not hold her in it - she was doing nothing to make him think her mind could not be swayed.
His teasing makes her laugh, a low hum in the back of her throat when she presses her lips again to his jaw. "You will see what I mean the longer you're with me," and she knows she is doing it again, letting him think that her not forever could lead to eternity, but she cannot seem to stop herself. She dips her head again beneath his, her cheek resting against his chest. She can feel his breath as it fans across the other side of her neck, and for a moment, she relishes in the way that feels, warm and consistent against her skin.
Her lips trail across the slope of his shoulder, considering his question in a heavy kind of silence. She has always run, ever since Dhumin left; ever since she lost the only thing she was ever tethered to. He had been her sun and moon and stars, and without him, she never quite found her way again. He took with him everything that she had been, everything she had been told to be, and when given a chance to build herself up from nothing, she had failed.
“Nothing,” is what she tells him at first, a lightly spoken lie, before a pause, and she adds softly, “and also everything.”
She does not stop touching him, does not lift her warm lips from his cold skin. She kisses his chest where his heart beats, feeling the pulse of it against her lips. “My life is a string of numerous mistakes; most of them brought on by myself. I suppose someday I will either finally outrun them, or just stop making them.”
ryatah