09-17-2018, 10:46 PM
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as love filled night gives way to day
As she watched him - his stiff, half-awake state - she noticed a sort of reverence in his gaze; something found often in his expression when she caught him looking at her. This was different, though...this was more intense, more motivated. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. Under the heat and intensity of his eyes Hazel fidgeted, feeling out of place and incredibly self conscious. She picked at the hem of the T-shirt, trying to tug it further down her body to cover what was already covered. She felt like he wanted something that she couldn't give - that she didn't have the energy to give.
The girl raised her hand, fingertips almost brushing against the fabric of his shirt, ready to bring him out of the daze when he spoke. Immediately she jerked her hand back, the Greek hitting her ears in a foreign jumble. She wanted to understand what he said - almost desperately so - but...didn't know Greek. The way it fell from his lips was so quiet, so unlike him. Then he blinks and seems to wake more, and she's breathing out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling like he delivered a prophecy that she was going to be forced to figure out.
She didn't question it, instead waiting on his next words and rubbing her eyes to clear her mind of the haze. "Mmkay," She mumbled. This felt too much like a dream, with its ungodly late night hours and unreal context. She was trying to place the urgency that still tugged at their bond; wondering why she felt such a magnetic pull to him, such an itch in her fingertips to twist her fingers in his shirt and never let go.
A noise was punched from her lungs as he mentioned Margy - a quiet, hurt, gasping noise that had her expression pinching at the corners. Hazel froze in her spot, nails digging in to the metal of the door, her powers lending her the strength to dent it. It was too soon for this talk; she didn't want to relive that horrible day. She almost closed the door in his face because of it, if not for what he offered.
Tears rose to the corners of her eyes as her pulse stuttered, hiccuping with the raw force of grief that rose in her chest. "I don't -" Her voice broke, wobbling. She wasn't ready to hear this - wasn't ready to break in front of him, which she would. Inevitably, this would end in her tears.
After a heavy pause Hazel reached out, closing her fingers around his wrist to drag him into her room. She shut the door, too loudly, and sagged against it, knees weak in the shadow of anticipation. She wanted to say goodbye to you. Hazel covered her mouth with shaking fingers, sliding down the door to sit against the cold concrete floor. "I wanted to say goodbye to her, too." She whispered brokenly, golden optics a perfect shade of misery as she waited for him to go on.
The girl raised her hand, fingertips almost brushing against the fabric of his shirt, ready to bring him out of the daze when he spoke. Immediately she jerked her hand back, the Greek hitting her ears in a foreign jumble. She wanted to understand what he said - almost desperately so - but...didn't know Greek. The way it fell from his lips was so quiet, so unlike him. Then he blinks and seems to wake more, and she's breathing out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling like he delivered a prophecy that she was going to be forced to figure out.
She didn't question it, instead waiting on his next words and rubbing her eyes to clear her mind of the haze. "Mmkay," She mumbled. This felt too much like a dream, with its ungodly late night hours and unreal context. She was trying to place the urgency that still tugged at their bond; wondering why she felt such a magnetic pull to him, such an itch in her fingertips to twist her fingers in his shirt and never let go.
A noise was punched from her lungs as he mentioned Margy - a quiet, hurt, gasping noise that had her expression pinching at the corners. Hazel froze in her spot, nails digging in to the metal of the door, her powers lending her the strength to dent it. It was too soon for this talk; she didn't want to relive that horrible day. She almost closed the door in his face because of it, if not for what he offered.
Tears rose to the corners of her eyes as her pulse stuttered, hiccuping with the raw force of grief that rose in her chest. "I don't -" Her voice broke, wobbling. She wasn't ready to hear this - wasn't ready to break in front of him, which she would. Inevitably, this would end in her tears.
After a heavy pause Hazel reached out, closing her fingers around his wrist to drag him into her room. She shut the door, too loudly, and sagged against it, knees weak in the shadow of anticipation. She wanted to say goodbye to you. Hazel covered her mouth with shaking fingers, sliding down the door to sit against the cold concrete floor. "I wanted to say goodbye to her, too." She whispered brokenly, golden optics a perfect shade of misery as she waited for him to go on.
© MADI
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WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT I HAVE LEFT
i will defend your every breath; i'll do better