{Our Secret Ocean} [Cass]

Esmeralda Ayres cried last week. It had been a sad day, but then most days were incredibly sad for her. What was more she had sobbed all night, she had cried into her pillow until her head had pounded, until her eyes had tried, until there was nothing more to come out. Some people say that crying is good for you, that leaving in all of those built up emotions was a bad things and perhaps it was. But Esmeralda hated crying, she hated it so incredibly much. She felt weak, vulnerable and useless when she cried. It was a realisation that had only come around a few months ago, before then crying had been her escape, her peace and her pain. She had cried daily a few months ago, most night sleeps come around after hours of endless tears and misery. Crying was calming, it was relaxing and freeing. It felt as though each pain that had anchored itself in her heart was being let free with each tears. Each drop that slipped down her rosy cheeks was a part of her misery was being washed away. Slowly that resolve dissolved, though, it slipped away as she became aware that if that was true why was she still crying? She could not possibly be so pain-filled and agony ridden that the amount of seas she had cried was not enough to erase all her pain? It was then that she drew the conclusion that crying was for the weak. She berated herself time and time again for every moment she washed herself to break down and just cry.

So she held it all back with a determination she had forgotten she had. Instead when the need to cry came around she dug her fingers into her palm, bit her lip and forced them to go away. Sometimes the pain was enough to make her bleed and other times it wasn’t. When she bleed she became furious, the scars of nightmares past just memories on her pale skin, but still visible enough to remind her of what had once happened. She hated herself for giving into the weaker desire to just let it all go with pain, she had spent a number of months slitting her wrists, covering her marks and hiding it all away. And then one night she had gone so far that she had known in her heart that it wasn’t something she wanted. And she had known she had not been depressed, but merely a girl willing to go to the extent of faking it to make it seem real, part of her had believed that maybe ending it all was better, but she had never had the will to go that far, and people who were in those situations did. Again she had lied to herself, and again she had promised she’d never do that kind of thing again. And so she hadn’t, and when she saw her fingers digging into her flesh leaving bloody trails she had almost cried. But she hadn’t. Instead she had rinsed the blood away, wrapped her hands and sat on her bed.

What was more she had not seen a single trace of Simon for the past few days. The few times she had glimpsed him and called his name he had not replied. The first day she had dismissed it, the second day she had grown that familiar feeling of abandonment. Now you’ve done it again, you scare them all away, don’t you? He saw you cry, he saw you break and he’s tired of it. They all are. The voices whispered. They promised her that she’d never end up with happiness again, because every time even an inkling of the emotion passed into her mind it was burned by pain. Esmeralda should have known that, but she had foolishly tricked herself into thinking Simon was all too different, he hadn’t been. Four days and he had not spoken to her, four days and she was sitting in her room after spending a night crying. She had not cried for one month, and now she had just wasted all her tears, and all that work on a boy. Foolish, foolish girl. And she was just that, a foolish girl so lost that she had clung to the first thing that had felt like home, perhaps she had placed all her hope into it too much, and like any fire if you feed it too much it burns away before it can grow strong. Just like her and Simon, she had destroyed it before it could become anything. Simon had had the right thing in his mind, leave, run away before she kills you too.

Was it self-pity that drove her to such thoughts? Surely it was? But Esmeralda was far too lost within her own pain and self-pity that she no longer cared. Her mind drove at her – everything you love leaves you. And it kicked at her and she had given in, and now she wasn’t only wallowing in self-pity but self-hate as well. She had sunken into her urge to cry, to let it all out with the flow of tears. All those weeks, courage and pain wasted over one boy.

A sudden rap on her door startles her. Esmeralda watches it wearily for a few moments, eyes straying away. Hesitantly she moved to her feet. She had no clue whom it could possibly be, no one ever knocked on doors in the orphanage, if the Warden wanted in she walked in. With a deep breathe she pulled the door open, her eyes first widened with shock at the person she saw in front of her, but quickly the shock faded to be replaced with a mixture of sadness and anger. Anger was the simplest emotion she could express, sadness was the emotion that had embedded itself into the image she had in her mind of Simon. But then sadness clung to everything she thought about. "Hi, uh," He said and she looked at him. She didn’t want him standing there. He didn’t have any right. “I, um, just wanted to, uh," He averted his eyes, and Esmeralda wish he hadn’t, he was missing the anger that simmered beneath the calm of her blue eyes.

"How would you like to go on an adventure?"

She stared at him, the question somewhat shocking. And then she stepped back and away, turning herself away from him before moving back to her bed. Each step reminded her of how she had run through glass, of how she had bleed for him, raining through the rain and storm, glass he had smashed imbedding itself deeper into her feet. She sat down, folding her legs underneath her, a pale finger gently following the path of a small, fine scar on the bottom of her foot. A scar that she had gotten because of him. ”I don’t understand you, Simon. I don’t understand you at all. You come here asking me to go on an adventure with you after avoiding me for days. I can’t even remember how many times I called your name in the hallways on the first few days. I gave up after that. And now you have the nerve to come here and pretend nothing happened.” She frowned, her voice was devoid of all emotions, she didn’t even sound angry, it was more tired than anything. “I don’t know what you were expecting to come from that. So please, enlighten me, because you obviously seemed to think that I was going to forget all about it just because you turned up. I might be broken, lost and useless, but I am not stupid.”

ooc -- omfg i am so sorry about the wait D:

Esmeralda Ayres did not flinch at all. She did not cringe or move away from him, not even an inch. Instead she remained firmly planted to her spot, arms sitting in her lap, hair a tangle of dirty blonde all around her face, and legs crossed beneath her. She did not try to even pull herself away as Simon pushed himself forwards, arms spread out on either side of her, face no more than a few inches away from hers. Her breathing remained steady and she turned her eyes so that they met his. She didn’t let them slide away and instead she forced herself to meet his stormy ones. There was anger there, hidden within their depths. She could see it, gleaming and twinkling just like that monster he had mentioned, hidden and beaten so many times. And yet Esmeralda watched calmly, knowing that he would not hurt her and trusting her with her entire heart that he would not lay a single finger in her. She knew it, just as she had known that she would cry, just as she had known that when she had slit her wrists she’d never kill herself. It was instinct, it was everything about her telling her to sit there, listen and watch, to stop, breathe and look, because he wouldn’t hurt her.

She knew him. The Simon in front of her was the one she understood, the Simon that had come to her door asking for an adventure was the one she was falling in love with. This was the one she could write letters about; this was the one she could fall asleep with and bleed for. And yet she knew that the part that had run from her was a part of him. She couldn’t have one without the other, and even though she didn’t understand that part she didn’t hate it. She didn’t dislike it; she just wished she could mend it with her broken hands. She wished she could hold it and sick it all back together – not with tape, but with glue, she’d hold each pieces in place and continue to hold until it dried, then she’d know that it would stay together and not break in front of her again. But right now her hands seemed to be only grasping at tape, each time she mended him again it took no time for it to all come crumbling down. And in the end if she had to wait years for herself to find that glue she would, she’d wait a thousand if it meant that she could slowly fix him and make him better.

Part of her believed there was nothing to fix. That he was completely and utterly perfect. That that black stain on his heart was no more than a smear, a problem with the lighting. But that was just foolishness. There was part of Simon Karnes that needed to be mended with steady, loving hands. And that was the same with her. She wasn’t sure if Simon had seen it yet, but there was a broken and damaged girl in this shell, a girl that was begging silently for Simon to see it and to realise that she needed him to love her, to be there for her and then that would fix her. It was the only way to fix her. She needed what she had lost: Love.

The smell that slides from him is so familiar and comforting that it takes all her restraint to not just hug him. Everything in front of her was the closest thing she had ever had to a home since she had been in this orphanage. The broken boy in front of her was all she wanted, and even though he seemed to bring so much pain and misery with him wherever he went she wouldn’t change that for a damned thing. It was almost bearable when he was there, the pain that tormented her at night faded; the tears that leaked from her eyes slowly disappeared until altogether they had stopped. They had only started when he had abandoned Esmeralda. Simon’s eyes seem to be searching her face and she searches his, looking into those eyes, feeling herself fall into them, letting them consume her and allowing the warmth that they brought seep through her body. She was oh so ready to just fall onto him, to wrap her arms around him and to never ever let him go again, but she held back. This time she wouldn’t. Not with her heart on the line, not with it placed so clearly in reaching distance for him to stab, or for him to grab and hold and keep safe for her.

"You are not useless."

The words are barely there, low and undeniably strained. It was hard, hardly friendly and Esmeralda could hear the way he was trying desperately to not yell at her. But she wouldn’t mind it if he had. In some way it would have given her a reason to yell at him. But the way he spoke now left her with no option, but to act just as civilised. Esmeralda can’t help but feel the way her skin prickles with evident annoyance. The first words to slip from his lips seemed to miss the entire point of everything she had said just then. They slid past the meaning of everything as though Simon had only heard the last things to slip from her lips. And then as though he had heard she watched, intently, as his eyes softened, she could see the way they burned, but she could feel the way his gaze no longer felt like concrete, but more like his lips on her skin. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you, it was stupid, and irrational, and I just-" He paused, averting his gaze. She waits, pushing down her impatience, forcing away the need to shake him and just demand him to give her a good reason why he had played with her heart the way he had. He needed one, he needed a good bloody one if he wanted to walk away from this.

"I don't like hurting you. I thought maybe if I got far enough away that I could ..."

She stared at him. For a moment it was shock at the sheer stupidity of what he had said. Then it dissipated into anger and annoyance. How dare he? The idiot. Her eyes blazed. How dare he think that by leaving her alone he wasn’t hurting her. If anything he had made it worse. She opened her mouth to yell at him, but he quickly cut her off. ”I don't know, get you out of my head once and for all?" He straightened up, pulling himself away from her bed and instantly she felt herself miss his closeness, but hate him more for what he had said. He pulled out something from his pocket, but she ignored it, eyes burning into his. "I can't get you out of my head. And I've known for the whole two weeks I have been avoiding you that I never really wanted to." The letter moves to my table and again Esmeralda ignored it, her smouldering gaze intent on the boy before her.

"Please, just let me prove it to you. Please."

Esmeralda looked at his hand, and then looked at his face. She was so angry with him. So angry. Standing up she faced him, eyes unblinking. ”I want you to understand something. You think you saved me from hurting by abandoning me, but all you did was hurt me more. I hurt less when I’m with you, it is when you’re gone that it all starts hurting so much more. So promise me this, Simon. Next time you want to make sure you aren’t hurting maybe ask me first. Maybe talk to me, we are in this together, you know?" And with those final words she reached forwards and gripped his hand, unwilling to let go of the warmth that instantly spread through her body.

She knows that as soon as she grabs his hand she has lost that fight. All her will to yell at him, to defy him and to argue flees her and instead she succumbs to the warmth that instantly stains her skin, before racing up her arms and filling her entire being. She can feel it as it touches her heart and as it feels her. It banishes the cold away and even the aches that she had felt flee her. This was what her body had been wanting for those two weeks. This is what she had been craving ever since she had realised that Simon had started ignoring her. All she had wanted was his touch, and the warmth that it brought with it. Ever since she had met him she had felt safer, more relaxed and protected by even the simplest of contacts. They had first touched one another by holding hands and that was something special to her. It had been when he had offered to dance with her, grabbing her hands and pulling her up until they held one another in their arms. That had been one of the first times she had ever danced and it had been amazing and it had been one of the first reasons to form in her mind as she had fallen in love with him.

Staring at him she’s unsure if there is anything there to fix. Right now he seems as perfect as he was the day they meet. And even though he had broken down and cried right in front of her every tear that had slipped out of those beautiful blue eyes had been like nothing she had ever seen before. Even when his face had turned puffy and read, even when he had yelled at her, even when he had run away from her he had always been perfect. Even that night she had crossed his room and he had been almost a beast, eyes flaring, world torn into pieces, books, glass and paper everywhere, and amongst that chaos she had gleamed a different part of him, a broken, battered damaged part that just needed to be let out sometimes, but was far too destructive to be let out. After seeing that she had found that it was that part of him that needed mended. There was a monster within him, a dozen secrets buried so far deep within him that the monster was the only way to let that anger roam free. And maybe he didn’t need to be fixed and maybe she was imagining something just to give herself a reason to hold him and protect him, but she wanted to pretend that part of him was something that needed mending.

Esmeralda knew that there was so much about her and within her that needed a guiding hand. She was sure Simon didn’t see any of it. He had said far too many times that she was ready perfect, and maybe that was his way of slowly holding her and drawing those broken pieces away from her. She wasn’t sure. But whatever his method was she’d follow his lead and let him help her, just as long as he stopped pushing her away. She was so tired of him pushing her out of his life. For the first time she could remember she didn’t want to run away from someone, instead she wanted to be able to open up and spill her heart out and hope that they put it back together. She didn’t want to shield Simon from her pain, and maybe that was selfish, but in her heart it showed that she trusted him, and loved him enough to let him see the parts of her she never showed another living soul.

Then suddenly Simon’s hand is no longer clasped in hers, but before she can protest he has wrapped his arms tightly around her and she can’t help, but wrap her own around him. She breathes in deeply, breathing in his scent, breathing in everything about him. His arms hold her, strong, stable and very much real. He is a great deal taller than her, but Esmeralda doesn’t care at all, it gives her space to lay her head on his chest and she does just that, her arms wrapped around his waist, her eyes closed as she enjoys the pleasure that comes with simply being this close to him. Then he is drawing away and Esmeralda looks up and into those eyes she loves so much. They are the same colour as her own and yet both of their eyes are so vastly different with the stories and pain that they hold and yet it makes them so incredibly similar all the while. It was crazy how they were both so destroyed mentally, and yet they were both so strong. And sometimes it felt like she was leaning on a wall that could break without notice, but it was better than going the other way where there was nothing at all to hold her up.

"I'm so sorry. I promise. I promise, promise, promise that I- no, no one - will ever hurt you again. I swear it." Then there is the way that the words leak from his lips, clinging to such sincerity that there is no doubt that he doesn’t mean them. He looks so happy, his smile radiant and bright and Esmeralda can’t stop the giddy smile that dances across her lips. And then she’s being pushed away from him as he pulls her arm up, and then she’s twirling, before being pulled back into his warm, welcoming embrace. She doesn’t want to leave it. "Okay, let's go!" Simon seems to have another plan on his mind and without hesitating he grips her hand tight before dashing out the door. She stumbles after him, her bare feet light on the ground. She runs beside him, and they move out of the orphanage and away from the orchard, but Simon doesn’t stop and her mind is spinning, her heart lurching with the excitement and the thrill of simply being with him no matter where he is taking her. After a while he stops, still smiling and she pauses beside him, her eyes glancing curiously around her. "Okay, now, close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you to."

The excitement in his voice is enough to make her close her eyes eagerly. She grips his hand tighter, and Simon grabs her other hand, she lets him lead her on, allowing herself to fall completely into the trust that she has for him. She had no clue where they were going or what they were doing, but the excitement and the joy that bounced off of Simon was enough to fill her. She had never seen him so excited and she almost felt guilty about what she had said early to him. But she brushed those feelings aside; she knew that had been necessary. We halt and Simon lets go of her hands, slowly she lets them fall to her sides, and she tilts her head ever so slightly, mind trying to gather what her eyes could not. The smells coming from her were fresh, the air was clean and from the gentle drag she could hear the knew there was water nearby. "Okay keep them closed and just wait right there okay?” She nodded her head, feeling as his warmth leaves her side, leaving her alone in the dirt. The ground beneath her feet is damp and she can’t help, but wriggle her toes, it stirs more delight within her and she smiles. The sounds coming from her left are enough to make her raise an eyebrow, uncertain of what the dragging was, or the light splash and slap against the water of something distinctly wooden. "You can open your eyes now."

She does just that.

For a moment everything seems to stop and her heart seems to slow and then suddenly it is fluttering in her chest like a caged bird, unable to get free. A hand races to her mouth and she gasps, her eyes flicker away from Simon who is smiling towards the small boat that sits in the water. It was old, but the evident repairs that it had gone under were enough to tell her that this was something he had been working on for a long time. But what really had her smiling, her lips turning up, her eyes twinkling, was the white paint on the side. It had her name. Without hesitating she ran forwards before launching herself into Simon’s arms. She pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself up against him. For the longest of moments she held him there before slowly drawing herself backwards, her smile the brightest it had ever been for ten years. ”It is perfect. I love it, Simon.”

There are so many stories in this world. A billion trillion different tales being weaved into the fabric of the earth, each rock, tree and leaf comes with a tale, nothing just simply appeared one day without a story to follow it, otherwise no one would be scared of bears and tigers, without those scary stories they wouldn’t be so fearsome, but because of the twisted tales clinging to them they become those nightmares. It was just like how every single person had a story to tell, some had pointless ones, which told of a pointless life, others were joyous and cheerful, whilst some were saddening and heart-breaking. Esmeralda knew where her story lay, and one day she wanted to fill the pages of a journal with her life, and how it went from heart-breaking and destructive to what was before her. She wanted to fill page upon page with the mysteries of a fairy-tale she had created, and in the end she wanted it to be so very different from every tale she had seen and heard, because her happy ending would be all her own, and in the end she wouldn’t be the damsel saved by a knight in shining armour. She’d be the knight saving her man. And the book would flow together, and it would spring to life beneath her finger’s all because she was strong enough to simply survive. Without a voice there was no story to be told, but she had one, and she was beginning to understand and learn that surviving – even though it could be cruel and harsh – was what made life worth living. There was something pleasing to know that past all that pain there was something there to look forward to.

Stories form this world, and in them humans have built a way to survive. Hidden beneath each story is the truth and the way to survive, it is survival that writes those stories, Justas the strongest survive and the weaker fall the most worthy stories flourish where others do not. It is why horror stories stay ingrained in a community, put out there to scare children into behaving, told to prevent them from running into the darkness. Those stories create fear, they prevent people from roaming away and into the shadows, and it is why we survive, the world survives, they learned what was dangerous and what was safe. It was why fairy tales were set so crudely up, that a woman must have her prince save her and that they must always be that damsel waiting to be saved. There would always be a shining knight, because if you weren’t worthy of their protection you weren’t worthy of survival.

But just as stories evolve times change as well.

She’d be her shining knight in armour and whilst she was at it, she would save others as well. Her story her rules.

Spreading themselves across the landscape and slowly like the way you connect the dots the stories find their way to one another. And as impossible as it seems, especially when each and every single person is so isolated in the end they all resemble one another. Looking around herself she knew that this chapter was going to go on forever, pages were already filled with the joys and nightmares that had come with meeting Simon. But in the end, if you counted every single word there would be more good than bad. And as long as there was more good than bad she would take the horrid as it came and she would endure. After all she had lived her entire life suffering so a little more horror would be nothing. When Simon leaned down to kiss her she met him half way, pulling herself upwards to kiss him once more. She loved the touch of his lips on hers, she loved the feel of his hands on her body, holding her protectively. It was the hug that always got her, though. There was something warmer and more comforting about it than any kiss. Maybe it was just that she needed someone to hold her from time to time, maybe it was the way it showed affection she had not felt for ten years, but the embrace was the best part about it all.

It wasn’t something she hadn’t felt for a very long time. And until she felt it again she hadn’t believed she actually missed it.


Then he gently kisses her nose and her forehead and she can’t help but grin at the warmth that immediately spreads through her with every touch. Smiling broadly at his next comment she felt the way he lingered in the embrace and it was beautiful in every aspect of the word. And then they were drawing away from each other, but for once she didn’t mind, she never let go of his hand, though. "So, I recall promising you an adventure ..." There is a short pause and then he reaches downwards, scooping Esmeralda up into his arms. She lets out a yelp of surprise, her hands instinctively tightening around him, trying to not fall, even though she knew he would never drop her. There was no way in hell he’d ever drop her, she could see it with a simple glance to his eyes. Then he is letting go, gently lowering her down into the boat where she sits, hands gripping an edge, eyes widening as she gazes out and around herself at the wonders before her. There was no way to hide her excitement, so she revealed it all in a bog goofy smile of delight.

Then, within moments, he is pushing the boat off, jumping in, and grabbing the oars. When he offers her one she eagerly grasps it between her hands. She had no clue how to use it. But she would as sure as hell try this out. "Adventure is out there." He declares, before beginning to row out into the water. Esmeralda mimics his movements, frowning in concentration as she attempts to follow the way he moves so gracefully, as though he had done this before. Maybe he had, she had no clue.

”This is beautiful you know.” The words leave her lips as a whisper, her eyes once more staring wonderingly at the world around her. She takes in the water around her and the land. There was nothing here that was stunning. Ever so slowly a cheeky grin slips across her lips. Spinning around she draws her face into the most innocent expression she can possibly manage. ”The water looks just delightfully pleasant!” With her oar she flicks the paddle, scooping up water, a joyous giggle splitting the air as the water hits Simon in the chest. ”Gotcha!”