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‘You females, always so content on hiding. When a great man like myself offers an ear to listen, you should use that to your advantage, lovely therapy.’ It takes everything in you not to laugh, to quell both the amusement and disgust that swells alarmingly quick within you. “Great, but yet you assume I’m hiding, without knowing a thing.” Lips flatten to a straight line though your eyes have ignited with some misplaced mockery. He had offered to listen, and here you are throwing it back in his face, but you do not care. You have tried your best to make it clear that it is not something you would like to discuss, and his insistence only makes you resistant. ‘You don’t have to be okay you know?’ For a moment you pause, the words striking a chord within you. It had been too long that you hadn't been okay; that you had struggled to free yourself from the night-terrors, to shed the regret and sorrow and lost dreams, still clinging to you like a second skin. But you are trying, trying to be alright.
“I've spent what feels like an eternity not being okay; I want to be alright because I'm tired of hurting. It isn't so much that I would like to hide, from you or anything, just... I want to move on instead of running.” It is still none of his business, you note stubbornly, though the fire you felt moments before has been extinguished. As he speaks again, however, you soften, forgetting your angst, brows furrowing with concern for the stranger. Your eyes are allowed simply a glance of the cut splattered across his limb, but even in the fading light it doesn't seem all too bad. You smile then, nodding your head in agreement with his words. “You would be right. However, do you mind?” You do not wait for permission, instead meandering your way to his side, his mass towering over you like a skyscraper, his warmth choking.
You have to fight the anxiety that rises within you as you press your lips to his flesh, the fear of failure forming a lump in your throat. You had never done this before, not successfully, and while it would likely heal on its own, you can help, so why shouldn’t you at least try? You inhale sharply, your heart beginning to pour itself into the sparks of electricity that rise rampant within your veins. It is within seconds that a hum resonates in your mind, loud and consuming, and you can feel the shift of flesh, the way it swells back in to place, the smell of infection giving way once more to the salt of the sea, his earthen tones of pine and sand sharp within your nostrils.
It is then that you back away, your limbs weak beneath you as you try to move further, the mending taking more of you than you thought it could, though you are determined to hide it, and so you decide to remain still as possible for now. Upon examining the now woundless leg, a small smile curves your lips, your head swimming with exhaustion, even though your heart is ecstatic. “I’ve never done that before.” You admit, eyes glancing towards his dark face in quiet excitement. “Did it hurt? Does it?” You would assume not, but you had never experienced either end before. You had not expected it to take so much out of you, though a new wave of satisfaction washes over you as you again glance at the smooth surface of his skin. Maybe it would be the same for the pain. The notion makes you grimace, newborn anxiety blooming within your stomach. It is only now that you remember that he had asked your name, and though you sigh, you do your best to smile through masked concern. “Enna.”
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like punching in a dream, breathing life into a nightmare
