Maea
The worst of all blessings
Melting just a little bit under the tender gesture, it was tempting to let the tingle of his fingers brushing against her ear distract her. But as he responded to her question with equal measures of trust, she made herself push aside the sensation to focus on what Liam was saying, the mistake he was owning up to.
Her stomach dropped with the weight of it. A younger version of her would not have understood, would perhaps have listened to his mention of addiction and called it an excuse - labelled him as careless and selfish and recoiled - but that was only because the young Maea couldn't relate. The person she was today knew better the kind of demons that drove you into bottles, into self harm just to make the voices in your head go quiet. She'd been there, too, lived with her own shadows day by day – and she, too, had blood on her hands.
Pulling her legs up beneath her, she squeezed his hand momentarily just to let him know she wasn't recoiling from him. All she did was sit up on her knees so she could coil her arms around his neck and hug him close, achingly tender.
"So that's why you felt so bad about drinking, that time..." she murmured, comprehension blooming now that she knew more. "Oh Liam, I'm so sorry – you never should have had to live through any that." From the loss of his loved ones, to the dreadful accident, it was utterly unfair for it to happen to someone as good as him. She might strive for it, but Liam embodied the trait, always giving of his time and care without asking for anything in return. "Certainly it was a mistake - but everyone make those, though not always with that awful a consequence. That's part of being human, too, I'm afraid." And as someone who'd very nearly killed a friend while wrapped up in her own misery, she fully believed that it was one situation he would never put himself in again.
Her stomach dropped with the weight of it. A younger version of her would not have understood, would perhaps have listened to his mention of addiction and called it an excuse - labelled him as careless and selfish and recoiled - but that was only because the young Maea couldn't relate. The person she was today knew better the kind of demons that drove you into bottles, into self harm just to make the voices in your head go quiet. She'd been there, too, lived with her own shadows day by day – and she, too, had blood on her hands.
Pulling her legs up beneath her, she squeezed his hand momentarily just to let him know she wasn't recoiling from him. All she did was sit up on her knees so she could coil her arms around his neck and hug him close, achingly tender.
"So that's why you felt so bad about drinking, that time..." she murmured, comprehension blooming now that she knew more. "Oh Liam, I'm so sorry – you never should have had to live through any that." From the loss of his loved ones, to the dreadful accident, it was utterly unfair for it to happen to someone as good as him. She might strive for it, but Liam embodied the trait, always giving of his time and care without asking for anything in return. "Certainly it was a mistake - but everyone make those, though not always with that awful a consequence. That's part of being human, too, I'm afraid." And as someone who'd very nearly killed a friend while wrapped up in her own misery, she fully believed that it was one situation he would never put himself in again.
The most beautiful of curses
Base by Skylark
