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02-24-2015, 02:44 PM
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Something broke in his voice when he answered my (dumbass) question, and there were things that glinted in his eyes when he looked at me—and it was like we were back in the frozen desert again, the sky thick with frozen clouds and the wind whipping all around us, freezing his tears to his face and dulling the sharp pain I felt in myself when I looked at him ruined. But I had found him like that before; here he was now, falling into that state again, but this time it was all because of me. Ugh, I’m so dumb. Why didn’t I anticipate something like this? C’mon, man! Shit! Get your shit together, Ros! Of course he’s gonna have nightmares and black things lingering in the back of his head (the dusty chapters that tempted me to read them, line after inky-black line); of course bringing them up would do this to him, break him to pieces from the inside out, just by thinking about it. Jeez. The same shit woulda happened to me if someone were dumb enough to wonder out loud “Hey, yer Ma still love ya?” Shit, shit, shit! I paced nervously in place, watching him and hearing the soft tearing in his voice, the awful, heavy things in his chest as he answered me. Three…he had been three when he first lost; he had been *“…then it just.. never stops."* (Oh jeez Lee, no, no, no--) *"You just keep on losing."* (I’m sorry, Lee, I didn’t mean to--I wasn’t thinking right--) I huffed and snorted a little, a nice little panic coming over my bones as I beheld his breaking. No, no, no I gotta fix this, I can’t keep letting this happen— --and I thought about the last time I had seen the salted ice on his face, and how I had bumbled about with words until I had done something that had…not really put him completely right, but it seemed like I had soothed him, put some ice (ha, but seriously) on a sore, aching muscle that was oozing black blood. I had touched him, then; and at that moment, driven by impulse more than anything, I hurried toward him with the duty ( --but like I said, it was pure impulse that drove me, and clearly not some kind of calculating mindset, because I had rushed for him, propelling myself way too quickly to stop, and the floor was crystalline and slippery with smooth fragments and powder and I fell toward him but it was more like I was falling on him— --and my landing wasn’t that smooth and my shoulder launched itself into his neck somewhere and my weight was flung all over him in a messy barrage and I garbled “BLEKGH—“ as my throatlatch got caught on the point of his wither— --and there was a tiny piece of me somewhere in my head that considered drowning myself later for this little clusterfuck of a something going on--but every other part of me was itching, burning, begging for this to be right, to calm that darkness that threatened a rage on his breath and his words and the gleam of his eyes— --to make it right. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--ack--I didn’t meant to bring you back there,” I said quickly, my throat not really working all that well—y’know, since the collision. “I didn’t mean to—to stir things in your head ‘n make you—make you—“ cry, remember, feel the pain again. I shook my head against him and swallowed and tried to get my voice a little steadier, because it had started to shake, rocky with my worry, “I just—I was just wondering but—I didn’t mean to—to bring it back…” It was hurried whispers against him again, in his mane (again) and his skin (again) and hopefully they weren’t leaving a bruise as well. I'm not the best at being optimistic and comforting, he had said. “No, shut up,” I said roughly against him, “I don’t…I don’t want…I’m not expecting…” Words were becoming harder with every second and I sigh-grunted with impatience at my failing tongue. “You don’t have to…to try…” You’ve just shown up whenever I needed someone the most, without even trying, was what I wanted to say, what I wanted to imprint on his mind—but what ended up happening was that I gave a growl of frustration with myself and I pressed my head into him again, awash with embarrassment and worry for him-- “—you’re here,” came my muffled voice from somewhere in his chest. And that’s all I want. Please stop crying. (as if that would make it stop.) -permission to touch~ |
