[private] the wind plays a haunting tone, chemdog

[bible]

-

Strange to be touched by something real when she is not real anymore.
When she is something Other.

Strange to be touched so casually.
A hip. The swell of her ribs.
As he passes her by on his way to the river.
And she watches him go.
Dwarfed by the sheer size of him.

He could kill her, too. If he wanted to.
Would she let him?
Why not, she thinks.
She has been killed by less.

Thirst itches at her throat but she does not follow him to the river’s edge.
She listens to the way he says her name.
Bible.
Marble.

She shakes her head. 
Leans the hard edge of her hip against the soft flesh of his.

Too old to think much of it.
She has seen such strange things, Bible.
She has been so many terribly strange places.
But these things do not belong here, she knows that.

“No,” she says. A lie.
But there are so many things that she cannot explain.

She blinks down at the rushing water.
It speaks.
And she wonders what it’s like to have so much to say.

She turns to look at him.

“How will you make it to the place you were headed now?” she asks.
The gilded tongue curling coyly at the end. 
She had asked him not to leave and he had said he wouldn’t.

ever since i heard the howlin' wind
i didn't need to go where a bible went

@[Chemdog] that absolutely works for me!! i really enjoy writing them together lmao