09-26-2021, 09:09 PM
iridian
She doesn’t bother to correct him, to tell him that isn’t what she meant. Not that she was afraid he wouldn’t come, but that he wouldn’t come in time, wouldn’t find her before she became as dreams do in the morning. A memory, a vapor, and then nothing at all. It would do no good to have him worry over something that could not be fixed, to have them both wishing for time to rewind when it can only ever move forward. To have more of something that had all but run out. She cannot help but feel that ache inside the cage of her delicate chest though, cannot help but wonder what things might have been like if this had gone differently. If she were strong enough to exist.
“I’m quite sure.” She tells him, and she is so careful to construct this smile against her snow-pale mouth, so careful to let this feeling of affection inside her chest crinkle the corners of those luminous cerulean eyes because this mask is a gift for him and an armor for her. But his smile makes it easier, makes it so that she doesn’t have to pretend at this joy behind her ribs. It is real because he is real, because he is here and in the absence of missing him there is peace inside her heart. “But perhaps you already knew that.” She says, not missing the beautiful arrogance of that smile on his mouth or the way it sparks like electricity inside her chest.
And, oh! His laugh! It feels like sunshine in her belly. It feels like home and like safety, like everything would be okay if only she could press her ear against his chest and listen to the sound of it forever. She is struck suddenly by the pain of reality, by this looming loss that settles over her shoulders even as the light in her eyes dims beneath his gaze. “I wish…” But she cannot finish that thought, cannot be so selfish as to give him a burden he will never know relief from, to tell him that she will be gone soon when there is nothing he can do to change that.
She takes one selfish thing for herself though, returns to his golden chest so that he can hold her close and she can forget the fear of what comes next. Of what nothing will feel like when it comes to take her. “You know it matters to me.” She tells him, her words soft and shaped against the hard curve of his shoulder. She thinks of his frown, thinks of the way he had trailed off. Doesn’t for a moment wonder if he is trying to protect her from truths like she is trying to protect him. “You matter to me.” A truth she can give him, one that escapes from her like a breath to wander like warmth over the gold and dark of his skin. “You can tell me anything, I promise.”
And there is a prickle of guilt, just a subtle flinch that races in secret down the curve of her spine because even as she asks for his truths, she hides hers from him. It is the right choice though, isn’t it? There would always have been a time where they traded their final goodbyes, a last time when life would carry them in different directions and she would become to him as ghosts do. A vapor in the night. They never would have known until after, until years later in a moment of remembering, that the last time had been the last time. This way, at least, he would never know the burden of guilt, of looking her in her terrified eyes and knowing there was nothing he could do to help her.
She could give him that much.
“I’m quite sure.” She tells him, and she is so careful to construct this smile against her snow-pale mouth, so careful to let this feeling of affection inside her chest crinkle the corners of those luminous cerulean eyes because this mask is a gift for him and an armor for her. But his smile makes it easier, makes it so that she doesn’t have to pretend at this joy behind her ribs. It is real because he is real, because he is here and in the absence of missing him there is peace inside her heart. “But perhaps you already knew that.” She says, not missing the beautiful arrogance of that smile on his mouth or the way it sparks like electricity inside her chest.
And, oh! His laugh! It feels like sunshine in her belly. It feels like home and like safety, like everything would be okay if only she could press her ear against his chest and listen to the sound of it forever. She is struck suddenly by the pain of reality, by this looming loss that settles over her shoulders even as the light in her eyes dims beneath his gaze. “I wish…” But she cannot finish that thought, cannot be so selfish as to give him a burden he will never know relief from, to tell him that she will be gone soon when there is nothing he can do to change that.
She takes one selfish thing for herself though, returns to his golden chest so that he can hold her close and she can forget the fear of what comes next. Of what nothing will feel like when it comes to take her. “You know it matters to me.” She tells him, her words soft and shaped against the hard curve of his shoulder. She thinks of his frown, thinks of the way he had trailed off. Doesn’t for a moment wonder if he is trying to protect her from truths like she is trying to protect him. “You matter to me.” A truth she can give him, one that escapes from her like a breath to wander like warmth over the gold and dark of his skin. “You can tell me anything, I promise.”
And there is a prickle of guilt, just a subtle flinch that races in secret down the curve of her spine because even as she asks for his truths, she hides hers from him. It is the right choice though, isn’t it? There would always have been a time where they traded their final goodbyes, a last time when life would carry them in different directions and she would become to him as ghosts do. A vapor in the night. They never would have known until after, until years later in a moment of remembering, that the last time had been the last time. This way, at least, he would never know the burden of guilt, of looking her in her terrified eyes and knowing there was nothing he could do to help her.
She could give him that much.
@firion