12-03-2020, 12:54 AM
when you're dreaming with a broken heart
She is afraid to acknowledge what she feels between them, even if she knows it is real.
She is afraid of him trying to make promises that he cannot keep, because the only promises she has ever known are the broken kind. It is better, she knows, to not expect anything from him. To still be surprised that he does not leave, rather than expect him to stay. To see him walking towards her, backlit by the golden dawn, and feel the flush of warmth and a certain kind of astonishment that he has found her.
To be pleasantly surprised and confused that someone has come back is much easier than healing from the hurt of being left by someone that had promised they never would.
She turns her soft brown eyes to him, tracing and retracing the face that is now so familiar to her. He is still all jagged edges and shadows that she can’t fathom the depths of, and yet the sight of him is like sunshine has come alive in her veins. Her pale lips curve into a smile at the feel of his mouth along her back, and her small, delicate body easily relaxes into the way he curls around her. A quiet sigh breathes from her mouth, a trembling kind of relief to have him near again, as she turns to press her face into his broad, scarred shoulder. “I know,” she says in that quiet way of hers, almost as if it’s an apology. The breeze stirs at the pale flowers tangled in her white mane, and the morning light of the sun melts into the glow of her own faint, ethereal aura. She still does not understand these new gifts that had been bestowed upon her, does not understand why the universe insists on thinking it can disguise her brokenness and her scars behind flowers and unnatural beauty, but if it had played a part at all in convincing Larva to stay, she will be grateful for it.
“I just felt restless this morning. I didn’t want to bother you,” she tells him with the smallest of smiles, daring to catch his eye with her own and immediately feeling the heat that flares across her skin.
She is afraid of him trying to make promises that he cannot keep, because the only promises she has ever known are the broken kind. It is better, she knows, to not expect anything from him. To still be surprised that he does not leave, rather than expect him to stay. To see him walking towards her, backlit by the golden dawn, and feel the flush of warmth and a certain kind of astonishment that he has found her.
To be pleasantly surprised and confused that someone has come back is much easier than healing from the hurt of being left by someone that had promised they never would.
She turns her soft brown eyes to him, tracing and retracing the face that is now so familiar to her. He is still all jagged edges and shadows that she can’t fathom the depths of, and yet the sight of him is like sunshine has come alive in her veins. Her pale lips curve into a smile at the feel of his mouth along her back, and her small, delicate body easily relaxes into the way he curls around her. A quiet sigh breathes from her mouth, a trembling kind of relief to have him near again, as she turns to press her face into his broad, scarred shoulder. “I know,” she says in that quiet way of hers, almost as if it’s an apology. The breeze stirs at the pale flowers tangled in her white mane, and the morning light of the sun melts into the glow of her own faint, ethereal aura. She still does not understand these new gifts that had been bestowed upon her, does not understand why the universe insists on thinking it can disguise her brokenness and her scars behind flowers and unnatural beauty, but if it had played a part at all in convincing Larva to stay, she will be grateful for it.
“I just felt restless this morning. I didn’t want to bother you,” she tells him with the smallest of smiles, daring to catch his eye with her own and immediately feeling the heat that flares across her skin.
the waking up is the hardest part
ANONYA
@[Larva]