11-09-2018, 09:35 PM
He almost breaks down as they press soothing touches to his skin, as they try to reassure him to keep him from worrying. It does not work, but their warmth, even their excess warmth, soothes some jagged edge inside of him. He was nothing but broken pieces anyways, smashed together and rubbing open wounds every time he moved. But their love, and their tenderness to care about him when they were the ones that were sick were a bit of a balm to one of those ripped, bleeding pieces.
He sighs, closes his eyes as their lips touch him and he leans briefly into their touch. Something inside him clicks, shifting into the right place. When he opens his eyes the panic is almost gone, the worry is still there, thick and heavy inside him.
Have hope.
Sure for them he would do practically anything they asked him to. So he tried. He tried to listen to the words, tried to make them stick soundly in his brain but it seemed as if he was always what his sister had told him he was, stupid, good for nothing.
“Yes. Ok. I’ll try.” He says, his voice wavering with each word. For a moment he is no longer a grown stallion but a child trying to please. He nods slightly, touching them again, pushing some healing into their bodies as he subtly nudges them back out of the water. “Still, you shouldn’t be in the water. It’s cold. It will not help.” He is dripping water everywhere and takes a few extra steps away from them to shake the excess off. His body was cleaner, maybe even his soul too.
Maybe some of those ragged, broken, bleeding, pieces inside of him were cleaner to.
His lips find Tithe and then they find Tindalos. “I should tell you…” His body shifting closer, pressing Tithe between the two of them, his eyes looking at the gathering of others in the distance. “I should tell you why I’m afraid all the time, of why you found me hiding….”
He doesn’t know why he feels the urge, only that he should, and so he does. He launches into sad tale of a boy that had never felt like enough. And a twin that took advantage of him, using him for all of her dark and twisted ideas. Bleeding and breaking him until he was nothing more than a shadow of what he could have been. He wonders sometimes if maybe she broke him in the womb and that was way he could only heal some and not everything. He wonders if maybe she stole it from him and turned it into something else.
He tells them of how when finally she had let her disgust rule her and she had killed their mother right in front of him. The horror had made him run, and then it was the fear that had kept him running. She had never liked it when he ran, when she had to take extra time to find him. The thought itself was pleasing, that she was so terrifying he wanted to hide, but to actually take the time to find him? Well, it always made things worse.
And he kept hiding, unwilling to live completely without the fear that had breathed it’s cold breath down his neck for so long. He didn’t know how to let go of it. How to stop feeling like he wasn’t enough.
All of this spills out in the quiet between them, but he never quite makes eye contact until the end. Until his throat is hoarse from speaking and he finally turns to look at them, albeit rather shyly and slightly worried that they wouldn’t want him anymore now that they saw how broken he was on the inside.
“And it scares me to know I cannot do anything to stop it again this time. That you could be just like our mother and watch as I can do nothing to stop the tragedy barreling towards us.”
He sighs, closes his eyes as their lips touch him and he leans briefly into their touch. Something inside him clicks, shifting into the right place. When he opens his eyes the panic is almost gone, the worry is still there, thick and heavy inside him.
Have hope.
Sure for them he would do practically anything they asked him to. So he tried. He tried to listen to the words, tried to make them stick soundly in his brain but it seemed as if he was always what his sister had told him he was, stupid, good for nothing.
“Yes. Ok. I’ll try.” He says, his voice wavering with each word. For a moment he is no longer a grown stallion but a child trying to please. He nods slightly, touching them again, pushing some healing into their bodies as he subtly nudges them back out of the water. “Still, you shouldn’t be in the water. It’s cold. It will not help.” He is dripping water everywhere and takes a few extra steps away from them to shake the excess off. His body was cleaner, maybe even his soul too.
Maybe some of those ragged, broken, bleeding, pieces inside of him were cleaner to.
His lips find Tithe and then they find Tindalos. “I should tell you…” His body shifting closer, pressing Tithe between the two of them, his eyes looking at the gathering of others in the distance. “I should tell you why I’m afraid all the time, of why you found me hiding….”
He doesn’t know why he feels the urge, only that he should, and so he does. He launches into sad tale of a boy that had never felt like enough. And a twin that took advantage of him, using him for all of her dark and twisted ideas. Bleeding and breaking him until he was nothing more than a shadow of what he could have been. He wonders sometimes if maybe she broke him in the womb and that was way he could only heal some and not everything. He wonders if maybe she stole it from him and turned it into something else.
He tells them of how when finally she had let her disgust rule her and she had killed their mother right in front of him. The horror had made him run, and then it was the fear that had kept him running. She had never liked it when he ran, when she had to take extra time to find him. The thought itself was pleasing, that she was so terrifying he wanted to hide, but to actually take the time to find him? Well, it always made things worse.
And he kept hiding, unwilling to live completely without the fear that had breathed it’s cold breath down his neck for so long. He didn’t know how to let go of it. How to stop feeling like he wasn’t enough.
All of this spills out in the quiet between them, but he never quite makes eye contact until the end. Until his throat is hoarse from speaking and he finally turns to look at them, albeit rather shyly and slightly worried that they wouldn’t want him anymore now that they saw how broken he was on the inside.
“And it scares me to know I cannot do anything to stop it again this time. That you could be just like our mother and watch as I can do nothing to stop the tragedy barreling towards us.”