SEREN
For every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
In every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
In every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
Nothing made her happy at the moment. The adder of guilt coiled up like choking smoke in her lungs on hearing the wounded tone in Maeve's voice. Paralyzing, vicious in its unusual frailty. It made Seren's skin crawl all over again, with some insane urge to growl in frustration - just leave her alone! - but all that followed the Madame as she retreated was a tense silence. Blistering with fear-based anger that had no place in this cozy room full of comforts and pretty things.
Left on her own to stew, the silence of the room seemed heavy with reproach.
It took a long time, but eventually the soft pad of feet announced the arrival of the girl into Maeve's room. Draped in a blanket, Seren settled down. Not on the bed, or anywhere within reach of the other woman, but on the floor behind the foot of the bed. There she curled up, staring into the darkness while listening to her friend's muffled sobs.
"I'm sorry," Seren said quietly, to the patterned wallpaper and whatever shades that might be listening. "I don't always do well with touch. It's not your fault, I know you were trying to help. It just... became too much." A shitty apology, but it was the best she could manage at the moment. Even being in the same room caused her nerves to feel raw and exposed, mind reeling from topic to topic, shying away from everything that caused discomfort - so that she would not start to fall, spiral and drown in the oppressive darkness of them.
Left on her own to stew, the silence of the room seemed heavy with reproach.
It took a long time, but eventually the soft pad of feet announced the arrival of the girl into Maeve's room. Draped in a blanket, Seren settled down. Not on the bed, or anywhere within reach of the other woman, but on the floor behind the foot of the bed. There she curled up, staring into the darkness while listening to her friend's muffled sobs.
"I'm sorry," Seren said quietly, to the patterned wallpaper and whatever shades that might be listening. "I don't always do well with touch. It's not your fault, I know you were trying to help. It just... became too much." A shitty apology, but it was the best she could manage at the moment. Even being in the same room caused her nerves to feel raw and exposed, mind reeling from topic to topic, shying away from everything that caused discomfort - so that she would not start to fall, spiral and drown in the oppressive darkness of them.
In every dreamer a dream - we're unstoppable
with something to believe in
with something to believe in
