So don’t leave me here on my own

He is a familiar shape pressed against the barren shore.

There is a fraction of a second of hesitance from you as your movements pause, as something swells in your chest, angry and hurt and yet saccharine, coveted, all the same, as you only breathe against the ice and snow. A moment in which you are surprised at how close you have kept him, the shards of memories, of dreams and sweet words that meant nothing (to him), of how much only seeing him wakes within you. A moment in which you think to only turn from him, to be the one that breaks this habit of finding him just long enough to believe that maybe, just maybe, seeing you shifts something in him, too.

Long enough to remember (as if you have ever forgotten, as if it meant so little that only the passage of time could erase what it felt like to be held by him, when you had been fool enough, in love enough, to believe that it had been something to him, too)  the sand as it bent beneath you, his heat and the taste of sweat, of promises (I think that is time I’m willing to give—). all the too-tender things in between. Long enough to remember the words that shattered you as he turned away, that he chose to let all of it go the moment he was given the chance.

But you are too stubborn; too annoyed by the hold he still has over you despite everything he has done—too angry and hurt (never will you admit to the parts of you that long to see him, if only to know that he is safe, if only to satisfy for an instant the emptiness all your dreams left in his wake) to simply give in, as he had done when you were no longer convenient enough.

It is this that you break your stillness against, finally falling into the same languid motions of mistakes you’ve made too, too many times and yet not enough to learn. This time, you think, it will be different; you will be stronger, not made to crumble beneath summer eyes. Not made to crumble beneath the wants, the wishes, that live somewhere in the shadow of your heart.  

“I’m not sure of how well the North suits you afterall.”

You smile as you stop near him, too far to touch, too far to recall the scent of pine needles and sea and mist, even as it lingers thickly in your mouth. At your chest there is a whisper of movement from within the slate-colored fabric draping from your shoulders, and that smile turns genuine as you look down, caressing the soft fur between the pup’s just-visible ears.

Only as you begin to look up does the egg pressed against his feet catch your eye, and for seconds you stare, unsure of just where the emotions of uncertainty within you are borne from. Perhaps it is knowing of the commitment, whether voluntary or not, the love that such a thing, dependent on you for its very life, forces from its keeper. Your brows furrow as you swallow, gaze lifting to the chiseled lines of his face.

“Congratulations,” you breathe, the word as hollow as you suddenly feel.

without you I’m so lost

without you I’m so cold

rohan & enna