COLT
She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
There’s no words he could have offered her that would have meant half as much as the murmur of the grass under his feet as he walks back to her. It’s not an answer, or an explanation, but it’s presence after such a long absence, and that keeps all the rainwater from soaking her through completely.
Nothing sits neat or clean at the moment, not even him, she notes, as he settles with a fidgeting quality. Her understanding has been fragmented and scattered, and trying to gather it back up is feeling as useful as counting raindrops in a storm. She has not struggled to remember this—it has always been wondering how he managed to walk away from it so easily. For the first time though, she’s wondering if maybe it hadn’t been.
Her head only shifts enough to let her eyes keep him, lips pursed around a breath that she doesn’t quite hold and doesn’t fully let go. The small, silver shape of the peppermint stick in his hands gives them both something to watch, but where it presents safety to him, it’s something softer for her. A hand that’d once reached without concern, careless for it based on all the scrapes it bears, trembles as it extends once more in an effort to remember the way something without an edge feels. Wordlessly, she shifts closer to him, and surrendering space and thought alike she leans across the remaining gap until the side of her head finds the line of his shoulder, every muscle beneath it wound tight.
Constant vigilance has worn her through, and for all the effort she’s still covered in blemishes and caught in confusion, so she doesn’t demand anything more of him than a chance to just, finally, rest for a little while. Her eyes close out the rest of the night, and a breath that feels endless spills out of her. Peppermint hits her on the inhale, the tingle a pleasant balm over nerves pulled too thin for too long.
His words slip in with an unease that doesn’t belong to her, but she readily takes, caution trying to surface past the weariness all the while. Slowly, she lifts herself, and it isn’t the stick that holds her gaze now. Brows crease faintly, trying to catch what he means before it lands somewhere she expects will hurt, because she’s known his hands when they’re gentle and they don’t worry as much as these ones are. One thing snags her thoughts before the rest can run off. ”I don’t hate you.” The words leave with a startled force that surprises her. She glances away for a moment. ”Tried to,” she admits to the meadow. Mostly she’s hated herself, because this ended exactly how she knew it would, or it had. She doesn’t know what it is now besides messy.
”…understand what?” she probes with an uncertainty for the answer when he’s gone so far as to give her a warning, fingers curling into the grass like the ground means to unseat her again.
Nothing sits neat or clean at the moment, not even him, she notes, as he settles with a fidgeting quality. Her understanding has been fragmented and scattered, and trying to gather it back up is feeling as useful as counting raindrops in a storm. She has not struggled to remember this—it has always been wondering how he managed to walk away from it so easily. For the first time though, she’s wondering if maybe it hadn’t been.
Her head only shifts enough to let her eyes keep him, lips pursed around a breath that she doesn’t quite hold and doesn’t fully let go. The small, silver shape of the peppermint stick in his hands gives them both something to watch, but where it presents safety to him, it’s something softer for her. A hand that’d once reached without concern, careless for it based on all the scrapes it bears, trembles as it extends once more in an effort to remember the way something without an edge feels. Wordlessly, she shifts closer to him, and surrendering space and thought alike she leans across the remaining gap until the side of her head finds the line of his shoulder, every muscle beneath it wound tight.
Constant vigilance has worn her through, and for all the effort she’s still covered in blemishes and caught in confusion, so she doesn’t demand anything more of him than a chance to just, finally, rest for a little while. Her eyes close out the rest of the night, and a breath that feels endless spills out of her. Peppermint hits her on the inhale, the tingle a pleasant balm over nerves pulled too thin for too long.
His words slip in with an unease that doesn’t belong to her, but she readily takes, caution trying to surface past the weariness all the while. Slowly, she lifts herself, and it isn’t the stick that holds her gaze now. Brows crease faintly, trying to catch what he means before it lands somewhere she expects will hurt, because she’s known his hands when they’re gentle and they don’t worry as much as these ones are. One thing snags her thoughts before the rest can run off. ”I don’t hate you.” The words leave with a startled force that surprises her. She glances away for a moment. ”Tried to,” she admits to the meadow. Mostly she’s hated herself, because this ended exactly how she knew it would, or it had. She doesn’t know what it is now besides messy.
”…understand what?” she probes with an uncertainty for the answer when he’s gone so far as to give her a warning, fingers curling into the grass like the ground means to unseat her again.
When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
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.
