01-19-2020, 03:39 AM
dove
LOVE COULD BE LABELED POISON AND WE'D DRINK IT ANYWAYS.
As far as she is concerned, she has only ever had him.
She knew his heartbeat as well as she knew her own, and when the perfect illusion they had been born into was shattered, it felt like he was the only one she could trust. Dove loved their parents, and she didn’t blame them for anything, and she knew that their parents loved them too – even if it seemed like their mother picked her perfect family over them, and even if their father was gone. But her trust in them was shaken, until her foundation started to crack and crumble, and all she was left with was him as the rock to build it back up on.
Even though she looks back at the water, her attention is entirely on him; hyper-aware of every shift of weight, every inhale and exhale of his ribs. It feels like static between them, like if she were to reach out and touch him there would be a shock, and maybe not necessarily in a good way. She wishes sometimes that she could read his mind the way that he reads hers, just to give her the vaguest idea of how to act, how to pacify that anger that burned so bright inside of him.
She would have maybe missed what he said if she wasn’t paying so close attention to him, but those quiet words, almost drowned out by the crashing of the waterfall, echo in her mind.
He doesn’t mean it like that – she knows. He loves her because she is his sister, because they are twins, because they are family. There is nothing else to it, and not even she is delusional enough to create something out of nothing, to search for something that is not there.
She looks at him, with those melancholy navy blue eyes that reflect the stars on his face. “I love you too, Draco.” Because he is her brother, she reminds herself, and that is the only kind of love she should have for him.
With a few steps she is closer to him, and without asking she curls against his side. Her skin flushes hot with the anticipation of him jerking away, and she steels her mind in preparation of his rejection even though she rests her head against his chest and whispers almost pleadingly, “Don’t pull away. Please.”
She knew his heartbeat as well as she knew her own, and when the perfect illusion they had been born into was shattered, it felt like he was the only one she could trust. Dove loved their parents, and she didn’t blame them for anything, and she knew that their parents loved them too – even if it seemed like their mother picked her perfect family over them, and even if their father was gone. But her trust in them was shaken, until her foundation started to crack and crumble, and all she was left with was him as the rock to build it back up on.
Even though she looks back at the water, her attention is entirely on him; hyper-aware of every shift of weight, every inhale and exhale of his ribs. It feels like static between them, like if she were to reach out and touch him there would be a shock, and maybe not necessarily in a good way. She wishes sometimes that she could read his mind the way that he reads hers, just to give her the vaguest idea of how to act, how to pacify that anger that burned so bright inside of him.
She would have maybe missed what he said if she wasn’t paying so close attention to him, but those quiet words, almost drowned out by the crashing of the waterfall, echo in her mind.
He doesn’t mean it like that – she knows. He loves her because she is his sister, because they are twins, because they are family. There is nothing else to it, and not even she is delusional enough to create something out of nothing, to search for something that is not there.
She looks at him, with those melancholy navy blue eyes that reflect the stars on his face. “I love you too, Draco.” Because he is her brother, she reminds herself, and that is the only kind of love she should have for him.
With a few steps she is closer to him, and without asking she curls against his side. Her skin flushes hot with the anticipation of him jerking away, and she steels her mind in preparation of his rejection even though she rests her head against his chest and whispers almost pleadingly, “Don’t pull away. Please.”