i am nothing but a heart of satin,
nothing but rose petals in a cage of bones
nothing but rose petals in a cage of bones
There are so many things she thought she’d say to him.
She had recited them over and over in her head like a prayer. It was something she practiced regularly - this wanting. It had hurt too much in the beginning, to think of all the things she wanted to say but couldn’t, to think of what she should have said but didn’t. But the words just kept coming and coming until it was all she knew. She had only wanted the opportunity to use them.
In my dreams we are walking through the great library of Delumine and reading poetry until we are sick of words and only want each other. In my dreams we are walking through the scorching sands of Solterra and drinking in the sun all day long until we are red and blistered. In my dreams we are soaring along the cliffs of Terrastella until we are breathless. In my dreams we are exploring the streets of the Denocte’s Market and dancing by the fires until daybreak. In my dreams, we are together.
Now, she has been given a chance to say all the things she was too scared to say.
She takes a step back, her ears flattening against the thick of her rose hued curls. euphrosyne. her name in his mouth feels like a dagger to the heart. are you well?
“It’s not real.” the words barely escape, but their strength seems fleeting in the clouded air between them. “You're not real. You can't be.”
Her eyes are shut tight, her cheeks strained with the clenching of her jaw. She can only murmur: “You were supposed to be dead.” before the world feels too dark, too rigid, too close. She had been waiting and wanting for so long that she forgot what it was like to actually look at his face, to no longer see those garnet eyes in dreams and memories but to see him whole, in the flesh.
She had forgotten just how beautiful he was.
The hot prickle of tears threatens to break her already fragile resolve.
“Why did you leave me behind?” She could never answer his question (are you well?) without breaking her own heart, without cracking her ribs and laying it on the table so he can examine it and say: ah yes, euphrosyne, you had felt too much and i had felt too little. we were never meant to be, never meant to live the life you had wanted. we were never going to be together the way you wanted.
in the end, she already knew it was true.
