06-18-2017, 11:52 AM
Ellyse
I'm the only one who will walk across a fire for you.
it's only fear that makes you run, the demons that you're hiding from.
He is a harbor from the tempestuous fury of a wild and reckless hurricane, but he is faltering, moving with each forceful, churning swell of the sea of emotion enveloping him – and she is powerless to keep him from drowning. Deep within, her heart aches – and where it had begun to mend, the wound now lay flayed open, oozing and seeping the sordid misery she had swallowed down like bitter, acrid bile – but it is hot, leaving her feverish and trembling in its wake. She had left him at a hazy shoreline, with a frothing sea lapping at the indigo of his legs, beneath the warmth of a setting sun – but she had left him seemingly more broken than he had been before, and the weight of guilt and turmoil are heavy on her mind, stirring emotion she had long since buried somewhere in the darkest recesses of her mind to the surface.
Even as she presses the warmth of her body to him – to comfort him, to connect with him – he is terse, wrought with tension and with a frigidity she had never felt from him before, and when he carefully carves out distance and space in between them, she is dejected. A flicker of sorrow lingers within the golden flecks of her eyes as she quietly traces the broad line of his jaw, the creases and lines that are deeply etched beside each of his soulful, deeply sorrowful eyes, but soon the façade of indifference filters through her blood, which lay cold and frigid within her surging veins. Her teeth clench, causing the fine line of muscle within her jaw to tense abruptly, as her cheek is turned, watchful of the waning light upon the horizon but with her mind a million miles away.
His own gaze – bright, vivid and reminding her of the crystalline waters of the roaring, winding river – now searches for her own, but she will not – she cannot give it to him. Inside of her, she is rife with emotion. Humiliated by his rejection, as imperceptible as it had seemed – to her, it felt like a glowing flicker of light had been quashed by the coldness of his shoulder, by the flinching movement of the tension rolling through his coiled, tightly bound muscle.
She is so often carefully composed, with indifference gracing the delicate, feminine features of her curving, gently aging face, but she has grown weary of the depths of loneliness she had too easily fallen into, and the façade is gone. Though he has drawn away from her physically to further bore into her with his own steady gaze, with his rigid, firm tone, to somehow give her comfort and to reassure her that no apology is necessary, it only feels like the scalding hot burn of rejection and she is not listening.
She does not see his features soften; she does not see the flicker of light hidden somewhere within the darkness of his irises – she can only feel the distance growing deeper, and further in between them, and while she has never shied away from anything in her life, she yearned for the ground beneath her to tear apart and swallow her whole.
”Then why are you so angry with me? What do you want from me, Warrick?” and her voice breaks then, a crackling fissure, vulnerable, raw and rife with emotion welling up inside of her. ”You know why I left,” her voice is lower now – dangerously low, and trembling. ”I did not want how I was feeling – how I felt – to be projected onto you.”
And then, an echo of her parting words, ”You deserve so much more than that – and this? I don’t deserve this,” and quieter, ”you are all I have left, Warrick .. please. Please don’t.”
when all your promises are gone, I'm the only one.
@[Warrick]