11-20-2021, 12:05 PM
so don’t forget to love me in damnation
For the living i have earned on love gone wrong
For the living i have earned on love gone wrong
What a strange thing it was, to ache as she’d watched him walk away.
And she had waited there for as long as she could to see if he would come back. Waited there until the sun came up and she knew that he would not be able to come back at all.
Then she had gone home and told Ennis about the strange thing that had happened. How she had become the sun there in the middle of the night, glowing so fiercely that she could not even stand to look at herself.
She had not told him about the other things, the things she had learned about herself, how she could be cruel without meaning to be. (Though her twin surely already knew this, as she had been cruel to him without meaning to be more times than he could count.)
It had been months before she’d confessed to him that she could become other things, too. And she had made him practice with her. She had made him wish things, outlandish things, and she had tried to resist each one. But she couldn’t. When he had wished that she were a bird, she had become a bird. When he had wished that she was fire, she had become fire. And she could not resist, no matter how fiercely she screwed her eyes shut and tried to want herself into anything else.
She wanders now, as winter begins to give way to spring, lost in thought.
And then she sees him, almost as if he has been divined by her wishing. Because she did not get a chance to apologize the last time, not in any real, meaningful way. But she doubts, too, that he will want to see her and she understands that she will simply vanish if he wishes her away.
“Nemeon,” she calls from several feet away, as if she might be immune to his wishes if she keeps enough distance between them. “Hi,” she tries, trying to carefully gauge how he will react to her.
And she had waited there for as long as she could to see if he would come back. Waited there until the sun came up and she knew that he would not be able to come back at all.
Then she had gone home and told Ennis about the strange thing that had happened. How she had become the sun there in the middle of the night, glowing so fiercely that she could not even stand to look at herself.
She had not told him about the other things, the things she had learned about herself, how she could be cruel without meaning to be. (Though her twin surely already knew this, as she had been cruel to him without meaning to be more times than he could count.)
It had been months before she’d confessed to him that she could become other things, too. And she had made him practice with her. She had made him wish things, outlandish things, and she had tried to resist each one. But she couldn’t. When he had wished that she were a bird, she had become a bird. When he had wished that she was fire, she had become fire. And she could not resist, no matter how fiercely she screwed her eyes shut and tried to want herself into anything else.
She wanders now, as winter begins to give way to spring, lost in thought.
And then she sees him, almost as if he has been divined by her wishing. Because she did not get a chance to apologize the last time, not in any real, meaningful way. But she doubts, too, that he will want to see her and she understands that she will simply vanish if he wishes her away.
“Nemeon,” she calls from several feet away, as if she might be immune to his wishes if she keeps enough distance between them. “Hi,” she tries, trying to carefully gauge how he will react to her.
anaise
@Nemeon