It was crushing, like great icy fingers closing in on your heartstrings, wringing them too tightly, an untrained puppeteer. I watched with wide, horrified eyes as the owl’s talons seemed to open—and there was just the teeniest of shadows, nothing more than a speck of dust floating in the breeze, really, gently falling from the sky from its place within the bird’s feathered feet. And it seemed like it was falling so gently because it was so small and it was falling from so fucking high up.

I was watching you tumble to the ground.

And, in a split second, you were gone from my sight, because you can’t see dust falling through the sky from so far away, you dip-shit.

“CHICOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—“ I called, my voice breaking and raging and sobbing almost all at the same time, and I almost, almost bounded forward right then and there, into open space, because fuck me I was still on a hill but you were falling and I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings anymore and if I ended up leaping off a hill towards a fruitless endeavor to try and catch an invisible body and crushing my clavicle in the process then—

*"Elding?”*

But then that happened.

Turning, my eyes wet and wild and my voice the exact same, I saw him, again, always there when some shit was going down—and instead of leaping into stupid space, I whipped my body around and launched myself at him, screaming “LEE, SHE DROPPED HIM, SHE DROPPED CHEEK, CHEEK’S FALLING--“

But I had gone like—what—4, 5 steps or so before I stopped in my tracks, my voice dead in my throat, my eyes blank and slightly crossed and my mouth hung open in stupor because—

--well—

--you were talking to me.

And yeah okay whatever it wasn’t really talking. Shit. Semantics, yo. You were communicating in a telepathic manner in such a way that I understood that you weren’t *actually* dying. (Did that pedantic shit appease your Nazi ass? My god--) In fact, I guess what was really capturing my attention was the fact that this was the first time I was feeling something other than happiness or gleeful assholishness from you.

It was alarm ringing through you. And I couldn’t see it, but you were probably wriggling in the owl’s grasp (that you were still in, oh thank the stars’ sweet nutsack--) with the alarm you were feeling, the confusion and fear that was coursing through you, a novel experience.

You were alarmed at my own distress.

And as it registered in my mind that you were worried about my own freaking out--well. It was as though the huge frigid fingers that had been holding my chest and mind together in a blur of panic suddenly let go, bored of me all of a sudden, and my head was falling back into place and my chest was expanding and inhaling real air and I could barely remember exactly what had utterly terrified me before and I was slowly becoming aware of the blank, stupid look on my face and the glazed stare of my eyes and how utterly foolish I probably looked just standing there, freaking out over absolutely nothing--

--right in front of Leos, no less.

I mean, shit.

“Uh,” I said, my eyes sliding back into focus and onto the rough-cut edges of Leos’ tentative grin.

Well, damn. How do you play off something like this?

(I mean, I could drown myself--)

I would have looked away, or walked away, or something, but the terror left me empty and you had calmed down from your own anxiety and you were actually laughing at me now, you awful shit and allowing the soaring feeling to overtake you again and I was too blank to really think of something witty (or dignified) that could save me from this sticky situation. In the back of your mind, you kept an eye on me, because I guess you wanted to see how I was gonna screw this up some more.

(Or maybe you were just so ready to finally, finally meet this guy).

“Uh,” I said again, eloquent as fuck, “Wha….why are you covered in thistles?”

Oh yeah, smooth like butter.




[Ros has no chill, bruh]



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