footprints in the slush of ourselves — polaris, day 4.
Nov 15, 2020 13:49:34 GMT -5
Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Nov 15, 2020 13:49:34 GMT -5
you are somebody's baby
some mother held you near
no, it's not important,
they're just pretty words, my dear
some mother held you near
no, it's not important,
they're just pretty words, my dear
As he closes his hand around Piper’s wrists and pulls her away from the snow-speckled bodies, he feels less a human and more a ghost. Something’s wrong. His heartbeats—they don’t race, but remain quiet, frozen over, turned to ice.
With the ground littered with slashes of earth here and there, it proves easier than usual to find footholds. They weave through the openings in the dirt, and something’s wrong because he does it calmly, his steps lithe as he skips over one gap to the next like a trained dancer, never wavering.
“Think they stayed back,” he says when they’re finally alone, with only the winter as their accompany aside from each other’s. His tone is burnished steel, tampered by fire, and
god, something’s wrong.
Luke Hailsham has taken two lives and he feels nothing about it, no remorse, no guilt.
There’s blood on his hands but when he stares down at it for a moment, nothing in him twists. He isn’t haunted. He isn’t frightened out of his skin. It’s calm, eerily so like the heart of a storm.
something’s wrong,
something’s wrong,
something’s wrong.
“We need to set up camp, can’t go ahead without eating.” Already, his body moves on its own, with gloved hands clawing at the snow to dig out a hollow in it. The cold helps by numbing all the wounds on his body.
Numb. That was the word he’d been searching for. Luke Hailsham feels numb, shut off from any other emotion other than keep Piper alive for as long as possible, and go back home. As his fingers lose sensation, he finally understands that something has been wrong this whole time, because he hasn’t been the same this whole time.
Because Luke Hailsham has become a haunted house of his old self.
And all the ghosts in it?
Oh, they sing for freedom.
there is no distraction
that can make me disappear
no, there's nothing that won't remind you
i will always be right here
lyrics: chelsea by phoebe bridgers
that can make me disappear
no, there's nothing that won't remind you
i will always be right here
lyrics: chelsea by phoebe bridgers
