and bury it before it buries me
His hesitance doesn't escape her, but there is another part of her that just doesn't care enough to stop herself. Sunlight scattered across the gold of her skin before it is swallowed by shadows. His shadows.
It is cold, it touches against her skin and melts against her heat, but she feels the chill of it all the same. It is dangerous standing here with him, she reminds herself, but it is a weak argument and the soft percussion of the ocean makes her all too entirely unsure. She fights that knowledge by looking into his eyes with her own of climb. Her heart climbs into her throat as a shiver transverse the length of her spine. Go, she should go, but she wont.
Everyone knows that at this point. There wouldn't be a story if she left so soon.
A step closer. Her name on his lips, one word, three syllables, just an exhale of sound catching in the wind and she can feel her heart trembling in her chest. It batters at the confines of her ribs like a bird trapped in a small cage. She blinks, those dark eyelashes like spiders racing across her skin. She doesn't need him, doesn't need this, and everything else he will surely bring, she tells herself, but there is a pit in her stomach as he breaches her thoughts and her name twists on his tongue as if she were never meant to hear it allowed from his lips.
The golden girl wants to touch him as he looks away, he leaves too much space between them, it feels like canyons, like mountain passes. She hates the space that he builds between them. Elena has lived her life with spaces, the ever present six feet between herself and her parents is the most heartbreaking one of all. She tries to fill her space with other things, and she wants the shadow man to be apart of filling it.
She sucks in a quiet breath as his eyes return upon her. In heartbreaking truth, she would burn him if she could. Like petrol soaked paper. She would not mean to, but she would burn him all the same. Elena was fire, had always been fire, and fire blazes and engulfs, until ruin is left behind.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is like the sound of glass breaking on stone.
She has felt hot kisses down her spine, passionate ones on her lips, and teasing ones in the crease of her cheeks. But some how, the intimacy of all of those pales in comparison to the touch her offers her now. She feels wanted in this moment, with him, and it is undoing the walls she had so clumsily built around that broken heart that she never put back together just so. She has always yearned to be wanted.
And he gives her another confession. She wants to cry, for him, for her, but she has learned to hold them back and build a dam to keep it from spilling. “I did, they were taken from me when I was a year old.” She confesses into the curve of his shoulder, in a voice so small, she wonders if he will understand the shape of her words. Taken, stolen, removed from her life.
It feels like forever that she stays crushed against his chest like that, and for a heartbeat she feels that strange sense of belonging that comes with touch, with embracing, like a tattoo branding itself across his skin. That delicate frame cannot help but find comfort in his strength. But forever always ends too soon and slowly they are pulling away from each other, and she cannot help but trace her lips against the curve of his jaw and down the narrow slope of his chin. Her touches, they should be more sensual than what they are. She has known no other orphan in her life, and she had always wondered what they were like. Did they ache like her? Bleed without lacerations? Break and crumble apart while still appearing whole? She stops just as she reaches the end of his cheek, unwilling to move further before pulling away to watch him with sorrow and grief like a stain across her delicate face. There are so may things she could tell him, ask him, a dozen thoughts bouncing around like dropped beads in her head. But there is one that finds its way to her lips first. Those depthless blue eyes like cloudless sky of summer look up at him. “I may have known them, but there is much that still remains a mystery to me. I have lived far longer without them, than with them” she says, admits, looks away a moment, before blue eyes blink towards him again. “And you, did you know yours?”
It is cold, it touches against her skin and melts against her heat, but she feels the chill of it all the same. It is dangerous standing here with him, she reminds herself, but it is a weak argument and the soft percussion of the ocean makes her all too entirely unsure. She fights that knowledge by looking into his eyes with her own of climb. Her heart climbs into her throat as a shiver transverse the length of her spine. Go, she should go, but she wont.
Everyone knows that at this point. There wouldn't be a story if she left so soon.
A step closer. Her name on his lips, one word, three syllables, just an exhale of sound catching in the wind and she can feel her heart trembling in her chest. It batters at the confines of her ribs like a bird trapped in a small cage. She blinks, those dark eyelashes like spiders racing across her skin. She doesn't need him, doesn't need this, and everything else he will surely bring, she tells herself, but there is a pit in her stomach as he breaches her thoughts and her name twists on his tongue as if she were never meant to hear it allowed from his lips.
The golden girl wants to touch him as he looks away, he leaves too much space between them, it feels like canyons, like mountain passes. She hates the space that he builds between them. Elena has lived her life with spaces, the ever present six feet between herself and her parents is the most heartbreaking one of all. She tries to fill her space with other things, and she wants the shadow man to be apart of filling it.
She sucks in a quiet breath as his eyes return upon her. In heartbreaking truth, she would burn him if she could. Like petrol soaked paper. She would not mean to, but she would burn him all the same. Elena was fire, had always been fire, and fire blazes and engulfs, until ruin is left behind.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is like the sound of glass breaking on stone.
She has felt hot kisses down her spine, passionate ones on her lips, and teasing ones in the crease of her cheeks. But some how, the intimacy of all of those pales in comparison to the touch her offers her now. She feels wanted in this moment, with him, and it is undoing the walls she had so clumsily built around that broken heart that she never put back together just so. She has always yearned to be wanted.
And he gives her another confession. She wants to cry, for him, for her, but she has learned to hold them back and build a dam to keep it from spilling. “I did, they were taken from me when I was a year old.” She confesses into the curve of his shoulder, in a voice so small, she wonders if he will understand the shape of her words. Taken, stolen, removed from her life.
It feels like forever that she stays crushed against his chest like that, and for a heartbeat she feels that strange sense of belonging that comes with touch, with embracing, like a tattoo branding itself across his skin. That delicate frame cannot help but find comfort in his strength. But forever always ends too soon and slowly they are pulling away from each other, and she cannot help but trace her lips against the curve of his jaw and down the narrow slope of his chin. Her touches, they should be more sensual than what they are. She has known no other orphan in her life, and she had always wondered what they were like. Did they ache like her? Bleed without lacerations? Break and crumble apart while still appearing whole? She stops just as she reaches the end of his cheek, unwilling to move further before pulling away to watch him with sorrow and grief like a stain across her delicate face. There are so may things she could tell him, ask him, a dozen thoughts bouncing around like dropped beads in her head. But there is one that finds its way to her lips first. Those depthless blue eyes like cloudless sky of summer look up at him. “I may have known them, but there is much that still remains a mystery to me. I have lived far longer without them, than with them” she says, admits, looks away a moment, before blue eyes blink towards him again. “And you, did you know yours?”
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Tenebrae <3
![[Image: ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db...0iFb4PvyXE]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8026a53b-dc57-41ab-b574-9f8a8fe57ce4/ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db0780.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzgwMjZhNTNiLWRjNTctNDFhYi1iNTc0LTlmOGE4ZmU1N2NlNFwvZGR2b3R3ZS01OTMwMmJhNi02YTgxLTQ3YmYtOTg0Ni0zMGM1YTVkYjA3ODAucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ujCJH7FAbsQhfZlQniMmEd_vw-VmvaTDn0iFb4PvyXE)
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
pixel made by the amazing star
