Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
The laughter bounced against stone walls, riccocheting into the cavernous rafters and hailed down upon her like so much shrapnel. Maybe it couldn't harm her physically the way the fingerbone might have, but it bruised on the inside all the same. Stinging her ego, wounding whatever tattered ribbons remaining of pride, curdling every good intention on her tongue until her lips curled into a snarl. Getting tired of my own words
"Shut up." Her feet had stopped moving. With some surprise Maea found that she had clenched her fists, and something hot and blistering was making its way up her throat. It was a bit much, wasn't it? Dying. Being yanked back. Arrows in her chest, people asking why she'd gone off without saying anything. The dead silence from Danta, from Asta, from Evie, illustrating in exquisite detail the ashes of what used to be perfectly sound bridges. It was the constant unease of Starfall looming on the horizon, a dead girl on a pyre, the visage of friends rent with grief - and being unable to so much as be there for them, because one person thought she was rude.
And now this pile of bones was laughing at her?
"Shut the fuck up. I didn't do anything to you - so shut up or I'll burn every single fucking bone in here!"
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
