COLT
She chuckles at his remark about the the Flood, because he isn't wrong. One arm drapes over the bench, propping up her head—too heavy to hold on its own—as she tilts it to watch him, smiling warmly at his recounting. "Lack of time is definitely a kicker," she agrees with a knowing look. At the mention of jealous types she rolls her eyes a bit. "So many jealous boys," she mutters, as if they're plagued by the rutting stags. Then he asks her back, and whether she expected it or not, she quiets. The warm glow of the evening and the alcohol seem to fade, leaving her hollow. She grows distant, despite remaining perfectly still, but it's in the glossy slip of her eyes and the waver of her voice when it finally picks back up.
“Yeah.” Her voice is flat, her gaze cast off toward the dark field and the wandering stars. "I was in love, once. I don't wish it on anyone."
She falls silent, but it's clear something inside her is building up, caught on the edge of her teeth as her lips purse around the thought of it. "You don't realize all the small ways you take pieces of yourself and give them to the one you love. You do it little by little, day by day, and you don't even notice the way you've made yourself so small." She wishes she still had that shot now.
"You stop hanging out with an old friend of yours, because it makes him jealous, and even though you know—gods, you fucking know—he's got no right to ask it of you, sometimes it just ain't worth the fight. Even if that friend has been with you through thick and thin, even if you're a bit dimmer because of it, you find a reason to make it okay, because someone who loves you wouldn't ask you to do that if it didn't really fuck with their heart, right?" Her lips pull down in a frown. "People are complicated. You don't think the same, you don't feel the same. It doesn't both you, but it bothers him, and if you love him, how can you keep doing something that you know hurts him? Love is building a life for the both of you, after all, so you have to compromise, that's what everyone says. So you give him that piece of you, to make him happy, and you think—not my other lines, I'll keep those boundaries, I'll keep me alive and just make room for him here around me." A cruel smile settles then, and a dry laugh that could catch fire too easy.
"It works, for a while, and you're happy. Until—there's another boundary he starts pushing on. He pushes, and pushes, and pushes. And the weight of him on that fence starts to be too much to bear. The good times are good, but the bad times? Baby—they'd bad." She exhales shakily, water starting to gather at the edges of her eyes, which only makes it so much worse because fuck she doesn't want to be this girl, crying on a front porch over a man, ruining a perfectly good night and even better makeup. She doesn't blink for a second, willing the grief to stay back, praying the night air would dry her eyes before they ran. She sips in her breath, like it's too strong to take all at once.
“Yeah.” Her voice is flat, her gaze cast off toward the dark field and the wandering stars. "I was in love, once. I don't wish it on anyone."
She falls silent, but it's clear something inside her is building up, caught on the edge of her teeth as her lips purse around the thought of it. "You don't realize all the small ways you take pieces of yourself and give them to the one you love. You do it little by little, day by day, and you don't even notice the way you've made yourself so small." She wishes she still had that shot now.
"You stop hanging out with an old friend of yours, because it makes him jealous, and even though you know—gods, you fucking know—he's got no right to ask it of you, sometimes it just ain't worth the fight. Even if that friend has been with you through thick and thin, even if you're a bit dimmer because of it, you find a reason to make it okay, because someone who loves you wouldn't ask you to do that if it didn't really fuck with their heart, right?" Her lips pull down in a frown. "People are complicated. You don't think the same, you don't feel the same. It doesn't both you, but it bothers him, and if you love him, how can you keep doing something that you know hurts him? Love is building a life for the both of you, after all, so you have to compromise, that's what everyone says. So you give him that piece of you, to make him happy, and you think—not my other lines, I'll keep those boundaries, I'll keep me alive and just make room for him here around me." A cruel smile settles then, and a dry laugh that could catch fire too easy.
"It works, for a while, and you're happy. Until—there's another boundary he starts pushing on. He pushes, and pushes, and pushes. And the weight of him on that fence starts to be too much to bear. The good times are good, but the bad times? Baby—they'd bad." She exhales shakily, water starting to gather at the edges of her eyes, which only makes it so much worse because fuck she doesn't want to be this girl, crying on a front porch over a man, ruining a perfectly good night and even better makeup. She doesn't blink for a second, willing the grief to stay back, praying the night air would dry her eyes before they ran. She sips in her breath, like it's too strong to take all at once.
I had some help
It ain't like I can make this kinda mess all by myself
Don't act like you ain't help me pull that bottle off the shelf
It ain't like I can make this kinda mess all by myself
Don't act like you ain't help me pull that bottle off the shelf
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
