[private] you cannot quit me so quickly, brigade

[brigade]

I was a poor boy; you were a bright light
I was a sinner and you were a snake

The conversation has quickly veered into darker territory than he has intended. He feels it resonate in him, the way that it echoes in his chest—leaving him feeling empty and unsure, grasping for the straws of his own control. Brigade has never enjoyed such deep conversations. Never enjoyed the sensation of pulling himself apart before someone else so they could see the darkest shadows of him.

She looks at him with her wide, blue eyes and his heart clenches in his chest.

No one should look at him like that.

He feels something like the weight of expectancy on the curve of his spine, pressing down firmly, and he nearly balks—almost turning and running back into the shadows—but he remains grounded. Cornered, he does the only thing that he knows: diverting the emotional connection into something physical. It’s an escape, he knows, but it is easier to navigate than the dark, tangled mess within him.

Easier than trying to suss out than trying to comprehend his own mind.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says, his voice clipped, a rasp beginning to creep into the edge of it. He takes a step forward and pushes back the hair from her eyes, letting his mouth linger on her forehead. “I’m just glad that it was you who found me,” his voice is lower now, his stormy eyes intense as he finds her gaze, wondering how she will react to the shift—to the sudden intensity building.

Would she continue pushing for answers? For the truth of him?

Brigade nips lightly at the corner of her mouth.

“I’ve missed you.”

shook like some old souls when our bones broke
swallowed the sickness, a fever, a flame

BRIGADE