[open] Not your baby

[Tarte]

"

I've seen devils, i've seen saints
I've seen the line between them fade

My throat is hot and tight as I pick up the first strains of thought. Images and words that intensify as the thinker comes close, and even in this darkness I could not mistake her for anyone or anything but herself. "Ciri-" I croak, longing and something heavier mingling in that single word. 

The light that has always crowned her is all the brighter in this darkness, a beacon that guides my feet until we're stumbling, crashing into each other. My face is wet, and I don't know if I'm crying, or she is, or we both are. I'm shaking with relief. I'm not alone. I'm not alone. But I was. 

My needy touch pulls away, sudden yawning space between us. For a moment, our wild breaths are the only sound, aside from a distant rushing that I think must be the sea. Her mind is racing, so is mine, and I'm trying to organize my thoughts to the point where I can speak again. I am crying, I realize, and the tears blur my sight until Cirilla is a gleaming gold and blue smudge across my vision. The only light I've seen in ages. "You left me," I say, and I can't take the accusation from the words. 

I'm shaking still, and I dearly want to press myself against her again, to feed my touch starved body on her soft skin and quiet, urgent mouth. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I can understand why I've been abandoned again and again. Especially by the one I thought never would.

TARTE

@[cirilla]