and bury it before it buries me
“Tell me again,” she had begged, because she knows he is preparing to leave (his stays are shorter and shorter as the war progresses) and she wants to keep him. Oh the story of Persephone and Hades. Elena had found a weird fascination. It had only been years later as she stood in the land of dead things and a dead host that she thought that Persephone did not eat the pomegranate willingly. But, she thinks perhaps, (as she watched the dead man walk to his lake, her captor and yet the object of strife in her current relationship) she savored it. Savored every moment. Savored the giving in.
She feels it now, she feels like Persephone as Hades placed the pomegranate seeds within her mouth and as she presses her brow back against his it is as good as done and Elena has doomed herself once more. She blinks those eyes full of bruises, and she cannot bring herself to regret her decision. Her coat shimmers in the saturated sun; all fire and halo across her skin. She longs for the sun she thinks, even while she dances with shadows.
There is hurt that still bruises her heart and memories that play over and over again as he offers condolences. “Don’t be, you did nothing,” she says almost forcefully. He did nothing. She did nothing, as her mother lay filled with sickness, while her father was murdered. She did nothing, and she has had to learn to move past the guilt. She cannot blame a child for their actions, even when that child is herself.
She wants to melt into him, to fall, to bury herself within him, but the golden girl cannot move her brow from his own. The action so familiar in the same way she has done such a thing with a crimson cousin. She listens to his story, his hardships, and she remains motionless. “And you are still here,” she says, there is relief in her words even if she doesn't mean for there to be. He was here. That was all that mattered, that he was here, in shadows and sun with her.
Who will care for her?
She wades in an ocean of grass that grabs at her ankles and threatens to pull her down and drown her in memory. And though it doesn't succeed, and though she does not drown, the memory comes all the same. ‘You had someone to take care of you?’ His words that he said as he took a chilling step towards her. ‘It seems you must have.’ And the way his voice dripped across her skin like slime. Another step closer. ‘Though they might have done a better job.’ And his breath, so warm, but it sent shivers down her spine as he touched that pretty, golden neck of hers.
“Maybe,” she says, breathes, a tremor of remembered fear in her voice. And then he pulls away and in an instant he distance between them is like a chasm, and Elena cannot stretch her hands to meet him in the middle, it feels impossible and impassable. Her brow furrows as he speaks, there are words left unsaid on each of their tongues.
There had been this undying hope that he would come.
And he had,
And now he leaves again.
Elena looks to her cliffs, to her ocean, moving towards the ledge only the last of his shadows disappear. Did he mean it? Would he catch her if she fell? She wants to topple forward, to tumble into the water below, to fall and fall and fall, all to bring back a boy of shadows that will only break her in the end, shatter her in more ways that an cliff side ever could.
She feels it now, she feels like Persephone as Hades placed the pomegranate seeds within her mouth and as she presses her brow back against his it is as good as done and Elena has doomed herself once more. She blinks those eyes full of bruises, and she cannot bring herself to regret her decision. Her coat shimmers in the saturated sun; all fire and halo across her skin. She longs for the sun she thinks, even while she dances with shadows.
There is hurt that still bruises her heart and memories that play over and over again as he offers condolences. “Don’t be, you did nothing,” she says almost forcefully. He did nothing. She did nothing, as her mother lay filled with sickness, while her father was murdered. She did nothing, and she has had to learn to move past the guilt. She cannot blame a child for their actions, even when that child is herself.
She wants to melt into him, to fall, to bury herself within him, but the golden girl cannot move her brow from his own. The action so familiar in the same way she has done such a thing with a crimson cousin. She listens to his story, his hardships, and she remains motionless. “And you are still here,” she says, there is relief in her words even if she doesn't mean for there to be. He was here. That was all that mattered, that he was here, in shadows and sun with her.
Who will care for her?
She wades in an ocean of grass that grabs at her ankles and threatens to pull her down and drown her in memory. And though it doesn't succeed, and though she does not drown, the memory comes all the same. ‘You had someone to take care of you?’ His words that he said as he took a chilling step towards her. ‘It seems you must have.’ And the way his voice dripped across her skin like slime. Another step closer. ‘Though they might have done a better job.’ And his breath, so warm, but it sent shivers down her spine as he touched that pretty, golden neck of hers.
“Maybe,” she says, breathes, a tremor of remembered fear in her voice. And then he pulls away and in an instant he distance between them is like a chasm, and Elena cannot stretch her hands to meet him in the middle, it feels impossible and impassable. Her brow furrows as he speaks, there are words left unsaid on each of their tongues.
There had been this undying hope that he would come.
And he had,
And now he leaves again.
Elena looks to her cliffs, to her ocean, moving towards the ledge only the last of his shadows disappear. Did he mean it? Would he catch her if she fell? She wants to topple forward, to tumble into the water below, to fall and fall and fall, all to bring back a boy of shadows that will only break her in the end, shatter her in more ways that an cliff side ever could.
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Tenebrae (anytime, dear, love threading with this boy!)
![[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
