02-12-2024, 01:44 AM
i showed him all my teeth & then i laughed out loud,
because i never wanted saving, i just wanted to be found
because i never wanted saving, i just wanted to be found
She does not have the right to be mad at him.
This idea is what echoes through her mind above all else, becoming the mantra she uses to try to smother the jealousy that now squeezes at her chest. He’s not yours, the voice whispers, and somehow that does nothing to placate her. She knows that she does not have any kind of right over him; he is free to do as he pleases, just as she is. And she knows too that if she had wanted him she could have — should have — just said it. She does not have the right to feel betrayed when she never said anything; it only further spoke to her naivete that she had foolishly, stupidly thought they were following the same unwritten rules.
And maybe that is what she is most angry at, is knowing that this could have been avoided if she had not let her fear of the unknown rule her every action. If she had not assumed that if she was not entertaining anyone else, then neither was he.
Perhaps her apprehension to reveal any part of herself to him had been a warning sign. Perhaps this is an opportunity to cut her losses and count herself lucky that all that happened is a blow to her ego, one that she can surely recover from in due time. She likes to think she is the type to learn from her mistakes, and somewhere beneath the stinging envy is a hardening promise to not let this happen again.
His laugh, though short and quiet, is a grating sound. Not for the first time, she wishes she had inherited the bite of just one of her parents — either Sabbath’s fangs or Varick’s unforgivable jaws would have suited her just fine in this moment. Instead all she had was her sharp tongue, but even that she can’t bring herself to unleash on him. There is a part of her that is aware that she cannot take back anything that she says, but she is afraid if she doesn’t get away from here soon she will lose the tenuous control she has over it.
“I promise you, I am calm,” she says tightly, her jaw clenching as she bites down on what else she wants to say. She sees him reaching for her and she recoils, widening the distance between them, before leveling her ice-blue eyes with his. “If you want to touch someone I’m sure you know who else you can ask — sounds like you have plenty to choose from — but it certainly is not going to be me.”
Before he can answer she abruptly turns away, and without a second thought she disappears into the lake, where she knows he cannot follow.
This idea is what echoes through her mind above all else, becoming the mantra she uses to try to smother the jealousy that now squeezes at her chest. He’s not yours, the voice whispers, and somehow that does nothing to placate her. She knows that she does not have any kind of right over him; he is free to do as he pleases, just as she is. And she knows too that if she had wanted him she could have — should have — just said it. She does not have the right to feel betrayed when she never said anything; it only further spoke to her naivete that she had foolishly, stupidly thought they were following the same unwritten rules.
And maybe that is what she is most angry at, is knowing that this could have been avoided if she had not let her fear of the unknown rule her every action. If she had not assumed that if she was not entertaining anyone else, then neither was he.
Perhaps her apprehension to reveal any part of herself to him had been a warning sign. Perhaps this is an opportunity to cut her losses and count herself lucky that all that happened is a blow to her ego, one that she can surely recover from in due time. She likes to think she is the type to learn from her mistakes, and somewhere beneath the stinging envy is a hardening promise to not let this happen again.
His laugh, though short and quiet, is a grating sound. Not for the first time, she wishes she had inherited the bite of just one of her parents — either Sabbath’s fangs or Varick’s unforgivable jaws would have suited her just fine in this moment. Instead all she had was her sharp tongue, but even that she can’t bring herself to unleash on him. There is a part of her that is aware that she cannot take back anything that she says, but she is afraid if she doesn’t get away from here soon she will lose the tenuous control she has over it.
“I promise you, I am calm,” she says tightly, her jaw clenching as she bites down on what else she wants to say. She sees him reaching for her and she recoils, widening the distance between them, before leveling her ice-blue eyes with his. “If you want to touch someone I’m sure you know who else you can ask — sounds like you have plenty to choose from — but it certainly is not going to be me.”
Before he can answer she abruptly turns away, and without a second thought she disappears into the lake, where she knows he cannot follow.
A D R I A N A
@assailant