[P] in the blur of the stars [fall]

[Elena]

take this burden away from me
and bury it before it buries me

She has considered going to Denocte many times, to see him. But there is a part of her, some distant painful part of her, that reminds her that she could never be his only one. That she would be one of many (she knows not how many women he has lusted for beside the sea.) In the end, Elena would simply be a splinter in the oak tree of his life. She could not meet all of his needs, his desires, or brighten whatever shadows he sank into. Yet, there is a part of her that aches to do just that. She ached to give him everything he needed, that he craved so he did not feel so torn inside himself. 

Elena always longs to be another’s lighthouse on the shore, to have them return to again and again. 

The pain of rejection, of jealousy, did not explode, but it did seep through her, filling all of the cracks and crevices that she could no longer ignore. All those places that other boys, have left vacant and haunted. She would grit her teeth against it, ignoring the throbs that flood through her, memories of other times, other men that she could never get rid of. The sweet, tender moments, the ones that broke her apart. 

Instead, she enjoys her time in Dusk, she feels safe within the walls of her home, delusional, sure, but Elena believes when she told him not to come back to Terrastella that he would listen this time. 

Elena has always been such a foolish little girl. 

But it is easy to stay within Terrastella this autumn night. 

Laughter manages to tumble from her lips as the night before her grows restless and she enters the dining hall. Emotions wash over her like an end of summer rain, but for once they are not ripping Elena apart, instead—only bliss can be felt. Like a summer night in Denocte that she has been trying to forget, Elena’s blood fuels with dancing and in an instant she is a flickering flame alight with movement. There are cheers for the sheer joy that another has joined the dance floor and Elena’s golden body twists and turns, hips roll and shoulders dip. Her creamy locks ripple against a neck of gold. She burns as bright as the copper flame insignia glows on her left shoulder. A gift to remind her that emotions that can glow brighter than any ember and can burn more than any fire. 

It is only when the music shifts that her dancing ceases and Elena pants with something like ecstasy and jubilation. She makes her way to one of the tables serving wine and lets out a breath. She is tired with euphoria and for a heartbeat she had almost forgotten about him and the fire that he stirs in the pit of her stomach. There was only dancing and night and candlelight. “I wish every night could be like this,” she says to no one, to herself, to everyone. Nights where she felt alive, where she could kiss a stranger, or lose herself amongst the bodies of other, or to simply watch delight streak across other’s faces. Elena clings to it tightly, and imagines for one elated moment, she convinces herself that this will happen again tomorrow, and tomorrow’s tomorrow.

so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me

@Michael