Maeve
We'll never get free
Lamb to the slaughter
Lamb to the slaughter
Maeve doesn’t hear his footsteps. She’s not even sure she hears anything. Her humming is soft, mixing with the waves and the breeze, rustling through the blooms as she digs her hands into the dirt. It’s so grounding. So utterly familiar that she forgets everything else for that moment. It isn’t until his voice rings out so damn clearly that she falters. The seedling she’s holding tumbles and there is an instant tremor to her hands. Tears that she thought were all gone spring to her eyes along with a righteous fury spreading through her chest.
She stands so quickly she’s almost dizzy with it, stumbling as she turns to face him, jade eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. ”Locke?” And oh if his name isn’t the sweetest poison on her tongue, tingling across her lips, and intoxicating her senses. Maeve takes a step forward. One and then another and another until she’s suddenly in front of him. She doesn’t even register her hand moving until it lands sharply across his cheek, stinging her palm, ”You fucking bastard! I was worried sick!” That fire that is burning in her belly only lasts a moment longer as she seizes his face between her hands, looking him over for anything obviously wrong, but finding nothing.
What she does next makes very little sense, but it doesn’t stop her from surging forward, kissing him so soundly her lungs ache with it. There are tears on her cheeks and fire in her heart and fuck she missed him so gods damned much. She’s not sure how long she stays locked there, his face between her hands on her lips on his, but eventually she pulls back to press her forehead against his. ”Where did you go? Why did you leave us?” Comes the whispered words, voice already beginning to tremble as much as she was.
She stands so quickly she’s almost dizzy with it, stumbling as she turns to face him, jade eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. ”Locke?” And oh if his name isn’t the sweetest poison on her tongue, tingling across her lips, and intoxicating her senses. Maeve takes a step forward. One and then another and another until she’s suddenly in front of him. She doesn’t even register her hand moving until it lands sharply across his cheek, stinging her palm, ”You fucking bastard! I was worried sick!” That fire that is burning in her belly only lasts a moment longer as she seizes his face between her hands, looking him over for anything obviously wrong, but finding nothing.
What she does next makes very little sense, but it doesn’t stop her from surging forward, kissing him so soundly her lungs ache with it. There are tears on her cheeks and fire in her heart and fuck she missed him so gods damned much. She’s not sure how long she stays locked there, his face between her hands on her lips on his, but eventually she pulls back to press her forehead against his. ”Where did you go? Why did you leave us?” Comes the whispered words, voice already beginning to tremble as much as she was.
What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?
