Heart is buried six feet in the ground, gonna need a shovel now
The clarification he provides earns a much more honest laugh, though the sound still chokes out strangely through the tightening of her chest, the sorrow too thick in her throat. ”Fuck if that ain’t the truth,” she admits with a wry glance to meet his. ”Guess that’s the best to hope for,” she admits after a moment, lower lip curling under a tooth. The dark humor lands because of it’s honesty and the familiarity of it. All this time, she thought there could be something better than this, a way to rise above small moments of stitched-together happiness until finally she had made a quilt from it that she could wrap around herself and be immune to the worst of the world. Could still be the case and she’s just a shit seamstress. Seems more likely that there’s just no thread strong enough to keep memories and moments from unravelling.
She sighs faintly with the defeat of that idea, grip loosening around the dream of finding something better than all of this. Seems there’s just no easy way to avoid feeling like shit all the time. What she blames on loneliness just appears to be the way of the world, and even if she’s miserable for it, she’d be damned if she gives life the satisfaction of her calling it quits completely. She’ll get up again tomorrow damnit, and the next, and the one after that. She’ll be beat and broken and pissed, but she’ll get up regardless. ”Not stronger,” she reassures him with a voice that’s thinning again, words parting around sorrow as each fights to make themselves known. She doesn’t feel a lick of strength right now, but she’s got plenty of kindling just waiting to ignite the moment her tears dry up. ”Just more stubborn, maybe.” She smiles into his side, shifting even further into him as her feet tuck in and she curls up against the back of the couch and his warmth. Eventually, she sinks down into the cradle of his lap, gaze holding the ceiling more than him, though he’s a haze in her peripheral..
The swell of his chest is felt as he gathers breath and words, the subtle shift of his body pressed against her doing more than she realized, but it wreathes a steady comfort around her, a reassurance of his presence that hums like a pulse. She listens, fingers combing slow and small through the very ends of her hair, seeking every soothing trick she’s got, even subconsciously. ”Yeah,” she murmurs, the sound smaller than she means it to be around the weight of his admission. She feels that settle in her too. Not so pronounced as his, but a shape she recognizes. ”I get that. Nothing feels better than being wanted. Nothing.” Her lips twitch at the corners, the movement bitter. ”S’why it feels so awful when they don’t want you any more.”
A tremble rises from her chin up to her cheeks and one of her hands lifts to flop over her face, seeking a small shelter from the obvious display. It quells after a moment of breathing, though her voice cracks when she rouses it, piecing out small crumbs of explanation, tracing the edge of the wound so as not to rip it open further in trying to manage it now. ”I guess I fucked it up…somehow.” The channel, apparently, because by the end the kiss didn’t seem to matter so much as that. Or the speed of her visit, the lack of her reaching out soon enough, long enough. She hadn’t known there was a time limit. She hadn’t known he’d been waiting the way she was.
”Or, seems he never wanted me, and I read it all wrong.” A more likely answer, and he was no longer willing to put up with her shitty ability to understand properly. Probably already found someone better; always figured he would. ”Can’t blame him, really. Who wants someone already damaged?” She’d warned him as much, but some things you just have to learn. Here she is, sitting with her own lesson, again.
Her fingers spread and the wet chocolate of her gaze peers up at him through the cracks as she catches on the way he says do instead of did. ”Aren’t you happy?” she wonders with a confused wrinkle to her ‘brow. ”Always seems like you have it all. It’s why you deserved those eggs.” Her lips pucker with the edge of a real smile now, but it’s got too much grief to wade through to really show properly. There’s something more to what he says though, and she isn’t sure she’ll pull the answer from him, but she’s going to hold onto that confession. Not for her sake, but for his.
A short, shudder of a laugh races up her side at his tilted smile and offered label. ”In that case, if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to ignore the hell out of that advice. Although, you’d think I’m a masochist too with the fact I’ve put myself right back in this spot all over again.” She sighs, rubbing the back of her hand over her forehead. Her gaze rises from a distant wall back to the blue of his eyes, holding him for a moment as she blinks through a breath that aches along her ribs. ”Well, whatever you are, I’m glad you’re here, and you’re you.”
She sighs faintly with the defeat of that idea, grip loosening around the dream of finding something better than all of this. Seems there’s just no easy way to avoid feeling like shit all the time. What she blames on loneliness just appears to be the way of the world, and even if she’s miserable for it, she’d be damned if she gives life the satisfaction of her calling it quits completely. She’ll get up again tomorrow damnit, and the next, and the one after that. She’ll be beat and broken and pissed, but she’ll get up regardless. ”Not stronger,” she reassures him with a voice that’s thinning again, words parting around sorrow as each fights to make themselves known. She doesn’t feel a lick of strength right now, but she’s got plenty of kindling just waiting to ignite the moment her tears dry up. ”Just more stubborn, maybe.” She smiles into his side, shifting even further into him as her feet tuck in and she curls up against the back of the couch and his warmth. Eventually, she sinks down into the cradle of his lap, gaze holding the ceiling more than him, though he’s a haze in her peripheral..
The swell of his chest is felt as he gathers breath and words, the subtle shift of his body pressed against her doing more than she realized, but it wreathes a steady comfort around her, a reassurance of his presence that hums like a pulse. She listens, fingers combing slow and small through the very ends of her hair, seeking every soothing trick she’s got, even subconsciously. ”Yeah,” she murmurs, the sound smaller than she means it to be around the weight of his admission. She feels that settle in her too. Not so pronounced as his, but a shape she recognizes. ”I get that. Nothing feels better than being wanted. Nothing.” Her lips twitch at the corners, the movement bitter. ”S’why it feels so awful when they don’t want you any more.”
A tremble rises from her chin up to her cheeks and one of her hands lifts to flop over her face, seeking a small shelter from the obvious display. It quells after a moment of breathing, though her voice cracks when she rouses it, piecing out small crumbs of explanation, tracing the edge of the wound so as not to rip it open further in trying to manage it now. ”I guess I fucked it up…somehow.” The channel, apparently, because by the end the kiss didn’t seem to matter so much as that. Or the speed of her visit, the lack of her reaching out soon enough, long enough. She hadn’t known there was a time limit. She hadn’t known he’d been waiting the way she was.
”Or, seems he never wanted me, and I read it all wrong.” A more likely answer, and he was no longer willing to put up with her shitty ability to understand properly. Probably already found someone better; always figured he would. ”Can’t blame him, really. Who wants someone already damaged?” She’d warned him as much, but some things you just have to learn. Here she is, sitting with her own lesson, again.
Her fingers spread and the wet chocolate of her gaze peers up at him through the cracks as she catches on the way he says do instead of did. ”Aren’t you happy?” she wonders with a confused wrinkle to her ‘brow. ”Always seems like you have it all. It’s why you deserved those eggs.” Her lips pucker with the edge of a real smile now, but it’s got too much grief to wade through to really show properly. There’s something more to what he says though, and she isn’t sure she’ll pull the answer from him, but she’s going to hold onto that confession. Not for her sake, but for his.
A short, shudder of a laugh races up her side at his tilted smile and offered label. ”In that case, if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to ignore the hell out of that advice. Although, you’d think I’m a masochist too with the fact I’ve put myself right back in this spot all over again.” She sighs, rubbing the back of her hand over her forehead. Her gaze rises from a distant wall back to the blue of his eyes, holding him for a moment as she blinks through a breath that aches along her ribs. ”Well, whatever you are, I’m glad you’re here, and you’re you.”
Colt
Maybe one day I'll get back the rhythm in my chest
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.
