In the quiet, I can only watch as the world around me is bled further of color. In the hours that I have waited, the expanse before me has only grown whiter as a strange substance falls from somewhere I cannot see. Her breathing is a constant comfort in this relative lull, where her touch is lacking, a distraction from the wailing of something, some monster that no doubt waits just beyond my sight. Its breath invades the space that we share from time to time, stirring her wild hair in to a brief flight of motion, much to my delight, washing its chill over my skin, much to my disfavor. The fear that it once held for me has passed with the time that I have spent watching, trying to understand and only tasting failure, certain that whatever it is that is causing it is asleep, just like the being lying next to me.

It is only now, as I listen closely, that I notice her breathing has changed. It is no longer the deep sweeps that it had been, and instead it is shallower, more frantic. I can feel my pulse quicken within my veins as she sparks back into consciousness, becomes a whirlwind of different emotions that I cannot hope to understand. As her head swings upwards I cannot help as I flinch away, hiding behind the mass of her lower body, a choking fear rising within me. It is moments until her wandering gaze finds me, coaxes what little bravery I possess into a timid smile. It is as she smiles back that I reach for her, forgetting the terror that clung to my heart not seconds ago. What is her touch, but safety? What is her voice, but comfort? It is this that I cling to, the meaning of her words lost on me though I grasp at the weight, the importance, that they hold for her; it is the familiarity of all of the things, the only things, that I have known (her voice, her heart, her breaths), and as she falls silent once more I cry out, not wanting to be lost within the stillness any longer.

I only want her nearer to me, to hear—to feel—the way her heart beats, only for me (and why shouldn’t it? She is all I want to know, all I want to need. How could I be anything else to her?). To be kept from the things I still do not understand waiting just beyond the darkness that we have shared. I do not want to leave here, do not want to face the howling that waits just there, to face the things that wait and their frigid breath, despite the restlessness that wakes within my heart, my bones, the feeling nestled deep within my gut to rise and leave the comfort zone I have created for myself. It is lucky, then, that she seems to be just as content as I to linger within the peacefulness that we have found.

etziel

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colored & coded by reli