MAEA
She kept holding on to him, even as he curled up on himself, even as he withdrew into whatever terrible memories he was forced to relive. Maea wanted nothing more than to shush him, to say it was okay, he didn't have to speak, didn't have to say it because in her heart she knew... Only, it wasn't okay. It was a snake bite, a boil to be lanced, cleansed if only a little, because how could it ever stop bleeding if the thorns were still there, lodged in the chest? And she did need to know. For sure, hear it said out loud.
So she held him, pressing her cheek to his back, arms slipping around his chest, holding him close. Not alone. He was not alone. If she trembled under his words, if the thickness of his voice cut her heart into pieces, then there was nothing she could do about it.
The dragon... killed them both.
Hot, quiet tears dripped from her lashes and onto his back. Little droplets of ocean offered to this lake of red, as if to somehow purify it. Ha! How could it? When her friends were dead, and her lover blamed himself for it... what did a few tears or a little blood in the water really mean? Maea drew a breath, shuddering and thick, squeezing her eyes closed. Was she clinging to him for support, or holding him up? Both, neither, it didn't matter, was unimportant.
What mattered was that Sunjata felt this was all on him.
"You did not kill them," she told him, with lips that quivered but was not allowed to cry, or spill the agonized scream that welled up inside, threatening to overflow. "It is not your fault."
She believed it. With all her heart, she did, and the way her arms tightened around him suggested she was willing to fight him over it.
Come on. Break if you need to - I've got you.
I've got you, liefde.
So she held him, pressing her cheek to his back, arms slipping around his chest, holding him close. Not alone. He was not alone. If she trembled under his words, if the thickness of his voice cut her heart into pieces, then there was nothing she could do about it.
The dragon... killed them both.
Hot, quiet tears dripped from her lashes and onto his back. Little droplets of ocean offered to this lake of red, as if to somehow purify it. Ha! How could it? When her friends were dead, and her lover blamed himself for it... what did a few tears or a little blood in the water really mean? Maea drew a breath, shuddering and thick, squeezing her eyes closed. Was she clinging to him for support, or holding him up? Both, neither, it didn't matter, was unimportant.
What mattered was that Sunjata felt this was all on him.
"You did not kill them," she told him, with lips that quivered but was not allowed to cry, or spill the agonized scream that welled up inside, threatening to overflow. "It is not your fault."
She believed it. With all her heart, she did, and the way her arms tightened around him suggested she was willing to fight him over it.
Come on. Break if you need to - I've got you.
I've got you, liefde.
I'm bleeding out for you
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
