.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
It takes the sound of his voice, sharp and invasive within the stillness that had laced itself around you to bring you away from the consuming numbness inside of you. You do not know how long he has been there, how long you have been here, a slight shadow amongst the shadow of trees, evidently too small to be of any consequence. You suppose that much of your life could be considered the same in the middle of it all, so small and insignificant in the face of the world; and the same for the life of anyone else. How, then, how could someone do something that changed you so profoundly? When he had taken you, made you his in a way that no one had before, a way that you cannot fathom anyone ever experiencing again, touched you in ways he shouldn’t have (you tremble at the thought), he had broken something within you, taken something that you do not think to ever obtain again. How, if it is all so terribly insignificant is it so detrimental to you? You suck back the moan that threatens to escape you, tumbling forwards before the tears can come again, into the sun and towards the unfamiliar man, unable, in the prospect of company, to stand the thought of being alone any longer. There’s something distant about you, even as you smile, as if your soul and mind are both a thousand miles away, leaving only the flesh of your body behind, bruised by the hands of a man you hoped to never see again. “Someone might have wanted that to stay there.” It is a murmur against the relative warmth of the wan sun, the sound of birds and life, suddenly too loud to be comfortable as it echoes in your ears. You pause a safe way away from the dark-skinned man, your eyes examining the broken ring of stone before resting on his large face. |
