Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
Wincing as the axe missed its target, she half expected it to continue past the log and into a kneecap. That would be a suitable conclusion to the general mess she'd made of things. Fortunately, no blood was shed in celebration of her homecoming. No tears either; not yet. They only burned behind her eyelids as Liam's gaze found hers, clouded over with a worry she'd never seen in him before. She'd done that - had drawn those shadows beneath his eyes, and cultivated the sort of desperation that brought him across the yard like he had learned to teleport. Getting tired of my own words
Air whooshed from her lungs as she was swept up in his embrace. A brittle sound followed with, somewhere between pain and relief; he was real. Warm and solid and there, his chest a rock for her to lean against when her knees threatened to give away. The way she clung to him was equally as crushing, tiny fists closing around the back of his shirt so that even if he let go she'd be sticking to him like a burr.
"No," she answered, too raw to be anything but honest with him. She was not alright. "I was... but it's healed. I'm so sorry, Liam, I made such a mess of everything." And that was putting it mildly.
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
