and bury it before it buries me
She had stood before him like a tree bowing to a storm when he had said what he had. She had felt her bones bending and breaking and caving through her skin, had felt her veins unravel like yarn and fall away into the dirt. Her heart that had already beat itself ragged so long ago between Aerwir’s touches and Underworld’s, but the tattered remains were little more than a flayed pulp before him, thudding within her imploded chest. How words could hurt so much. How could he cleave the flesh from her bones with something as simple as a smile slashed across his mouth. It had been impossible to breathe she had realized abruptly, to force her lungs to expand beneath the press of furious, frightened muscle.
Her soul still thrashes in wild death throes.
Something had to give.
So it had.
Like a switch, Tenebrae had dimmed her. Her lungs had expanded without the clutch of muscle to stop it, her pulse slowed to a steady thump-thump. She felt, in an instant, calm. But even this was a lie – how could it not be, how, when everything else was, too. Her blue eyes dulled from a wicked winter to melted ice. She hadn't quite stopped listening to his words, they still registered, somewhere deep, somewhere that was still bleeding today, but she has tried to numb the pain. She tried to forget how to care.
It was better this way. A voice whispers in her mind.
But in an instant, away from him, she is toeing the line of lucidity again and she doesn't bother to the flinch that tightens beneath her skin. “Don’t come back to Terrastella, Tenebrae.” She had told him, a quiet poison.
She can remember how his hunger—their hunger, had been mirrored in the way they looked at each other. Their desires starved and suppressed, building tension between them. She is usually so kind and mild, a happy girl despite the ghosts of her past, but a feeling brewing inside of her with such intensity that it is close to spilling over, and she isn’t sure how to handle it.
The sound of her pulse is unbearable. Maybe this is why she had gone out to the sea, even when the thunder rumbled and the lightning flashed warning lights. There is the steady thrum of emotions that pass by her as she makes her way beside the sea. The weather is still warm, but the rain that proceeds to fall is like drops of ice as it chills her golden skin. Elena has never liked rain, has never liked clouds. She was child of summer through and through.
She decides to save the beach for another day, and slips inside a building close by. There is the chatter and vibrancy of emotions as the storm rains down outside. Elena takes her spot in a corner, blinking blue eyes at those that surround her. She longs to lose herself in a conversation of the large group that sits there, but their emotions toss themselves at her like a punching bag and cannot silence them. It is then she sees a woman, with chains adorning her, and there is something that reminds her of another woman with wildness in her bones. Elena approaches her with an openness that she has a hard time restraining. She itches to know the lives of strangers. “You seem,” she hesitates, standing at edge of her words like the woman before her had stood at the edge of the sea. “Weighted,” she offers, unsure if the word was right, if the emotion was right. “Want to talk about it?”
Her soul still thrashes in wild death throes.
Something had to give.
So it had.
Like a switch, Tenebrae had dimmed her. Her lungs had expanded without the clutch of muscle to stop it, her pulse slowed to a steady thump-thump. She felt, in an instant, calm. But even this was a lie – how could it not be, how, when everything else was, too. Her blue eyes dulled from a wicked winter to melted ice. She hadn't quite stopped listening to his words, they still registered, somewhere deep, somewhere that was still bleeding today, but she has tried to numb the pain. She tried to forget how to care.
It was better this way. A voice whispers in her mind.
But in an instant, away from him, she is toeing the line of lucidity again and she doesn't bother to the flinch that tightens beneath her skin. “Don’t come back to Terrastella, Tenebrae.” She had told him, a quiet poison.
She can remember how his hunger—their hunger, had been mirrored in the way they looked at each other. Their desires starved and suppressed, building tension between them. She is usually so kind and mild, a happy girl despite the ghosts of her past, but a feeling brewing inside of her with such intensity that it is close to spilling over, and she isn’t sure how to handle it.
The sound of her pulse is unbearable. Maybe this is why she had gone out to the sea, even when the thunder rumbled and the lightning flashed warning lights. There is the steady thrum of emotions that pass by her as she makes her way beside the sea. The weather is still warm, but the rain that proceeds to fall is like drops of ice as it chills her golden skin. Elena has never liked rain, has never liked clouds. She was child of summer through and through.
She decides to save the beach for another day, and slips inside a building close by. There is the chatter and vibrancy of emotions as the storm rains down outside. Elena takes her spot in a corner, blinking blue eyes at those that surround her. She longs to lose herself in a conversation of the large group that sits there, but their emotions toss themselves at her like a punching bag and cannot silence them. It is then she sees a woman, with chains adorning her, and there is something that reminds her of another woman with wildness in her bones. Elena approaches her with an openness that she has a hard time restraining. She itches to know the lives of strangers. “You seem,” she hesitates, standing at edge of her words like the woman before her had stood at the edge of the sea. “Weighted,” she offers, unsure if the word was right, if the emotion was right. “Want to talk about it?”
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
Elena is Novus’s new resident therapist! Your first session is free!
@"Al'Zahra"
![[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
