She hears his calls, the first makes her pause, frozen to the spot welling with mixed emotions. She craves the comfort, support and stability of her painted comrade but the other half feels unworthy of it, ashamed of her weakness. Regardless, the past was bound to come up sooner or later, why not the former. Get it over with, after all, she couldn’t possibly feel any worse. Reluctantly and painfully, her honey-hued form moved towards his sound where he was coming into view. The alarm in his tone and pace brought back the feelings of self pity. Why me? It hurts so bad. Hold me, tell me it will be okay. Once again a vulnerable emotional wreck at the mercy of his kindness. Luckily, she manages to somewhat hold herself together, except for a few tears running down the flat sides of her skull.
She flinches from his touch, a subconscious reaction, more so from the fear of being hurt again than the actual pain of pressing on bruises and lesions. She has no reason to fear him but it would take some time before the conscious mind over rides the natural flight response. She allows him to wrap his neck over hers despite all this, she’s relieved to not have eye contact while the tears stream and thoughts collect. She leans her head against his chestnut coloured shoulder, her neck sending shooting pain in protest. There is a pause as they stay like this, him trying to comfort her, and she wanting to be comforted, wanting it all to be okay.
“I…” she trails off. “Well…” she tries again. Searching for the right words. “I went to the forest, just to explore, thinking it was a safe time to do so with the war over.” Her voice, buried in his shoulder is surprisingly composed at this point. “ I wasn’t exactly lost but I found myself at a dead end where a… a Pegasus found me. He insisted on showing me a shortcut home. Instead…” the emotions welled again and she paused to compose. Did she really need to say the words. He raped me. She said them over and over in her head, struggling to say them out loud. He had other plans. I fought as hard as I could but he was too strong. she finally says with a high pitched whisper between sobs. She feels hopeless and lost. “Oh god, I just hope I’m not pregnant. I couldn’t bare it. A part of her knows that she is but she tries to hang onto the chance that she is not, the chance no permanent physical reminder would come from the tragedy. And how could she love and nurture the spawn of that? (She will of course, but right now wants it dead)
Credit Image stock (starrlightstarbright.dA)/ Artist (Vita)