put your weight on my shoulders {avalon/rook}

"how much
can the heart hold?"

The land began to scream against the horizon, as another passing day fell to burning ashes and embers along the jungle concrete. A saturated sunset emits through the long, sheer white curtains that drape past the window sill. Contorting into unknown figures of shapes and colors, the light glowed brightly among- to a room where lies and sins vanished when the light touched them even gently.


Built upon marble and stone, a kingdom damned to the rulers who suffer through one part; hatred, and the other; lust. Happiness is foreign to these walls, and albeit the appearance differs from what lies true beneath the grandeur architecture, it is all just the cover to an untold story. And though the spine remains hard, it curves unhealthy, resulting in temporary to permanent damage.


We whisper in a language taught to us by nothing more than shallow, deceit, and hunger.

"I do not love him."

"Catrice.
I've only asked from you,
Stay true-
To what we need you to do."

"Why can't you see?

It's crumbling down-
Not upon you-
But for me."

"Catrice-
Enough."

"And while it might not hurt you,

Are you the one suffering through?"

"I said enough!"


Hand raised in pent-up aggression, I can feel the icy frost travel upon my skin. Surfacing the side of my cheek, the porcelain beats of flushed red, which replaced the frost with a burn that sizzled only from the inside. A lingering sensation sent me into lips shut closed, leaving behind the thought of the known- your sky moves in the wrong direction, Catrice.


A devil, disguised as a wide grinned angel with crooked, white teeth and a hissing tongue, took our dirty sorrows and exchanged them for shiny coins. Admittance was required, and once one entered the price paid is what was dealt. Shiny coins are nothing compared to the regret faced by an arranged marriage, for when a pyre of money is what would burn me alive. Slowly and gradually, the fires of Hell have come for me, but not for you, Nikola.


Dusted by the sun that shines brightly through the cracks in the curtains. My fingertips claw at the underside of the bureau, where marks of the past etch themselves securely into the wood to live on forever. It's almost as though I could hear the desperate calls for a silent help that fail to escape between parted lips of my own. Only in the form of a tattered wooden dresser, with a cracked mirror that reflects a repeated pattern along the sliced line.

"Catrice-
Don't you know
I have all you need."

"You are nothing

But just an extra breath-"

A wide smirk and squinted eyes grow along his chiseled face, and I can instantly feel him invading every part of me. Shrinking was a natural reaction, and I couldn't help but to feel less of what I am in his presence. Standing ground against your husband was frowned upon in the eyes of my parents, especially only towards me.


As much as my family is wealthy and well-to-do, my parents had found it best to force me into marrying into one who was even remotely on the same status. It was less of a burden to take care of both me and my sister once we grew older, so marrying Nikola was apparently their only way to assure that I wouldn't depreciate in a society where high expectations and shallow personalities were of significance.

"A deep gash-"

Words catch in my throat as he wraps his masculine hands around my jawline gently. Eyes glazed and focused on his own, I can tell that he doesn't take anything seriously. Lust is his motivation, and no matter how much hatred I could show him, he fails to realize that he is neither wanted, nor needed. Pity is held for him in return of feelings that don't exist. I lift my hand and brush his away from my face, and he places it back on the other side of the wooden bureau.

"Another cut on my flesh."

My arm pushes his away from wrapping around my body, and as I do so I move towards the double door of the bedroom. Feet clicking against the carpet on heels that leave and bring prints of unwant in the rug. My delicate hand wraps around the door knob and for a second, I turn away from it. Almost hesitant, but no much so.

"You're unneeded."

It was a sudden sense of forsaken words that found their way out. Choked upon for far too long.

Turning away and out the door, I feel the grip of his hand wrap tightly around my wrist. Enough to snap and break if he pleased, although the most he did was bruising along my body.

"I own you, Catrice.
Do not forget that."

-

There's knocking upon the grand, chamber doors. Echoing and ricocheting off of the polished, marble floors. It'd been hours since Nikola had left to the Town Square, and it was finally peaceful to be with no one else but my own thoughts.


Today marks the day that Conrad said he would come, paying off his rent expenses, and even though I told him to not worry about it, perhaps he feels like he owes. Conrad has been my best friend since we were younger, my parents never particularly liked him, but I convinced them to help anyway. I couldn't leave him in dark.


My heels click along the marble floors until I halt in front of the double doors that lead to a world hidden away. It takes me no time to clutch my fingers around the handles, and open them slightly. My eyes cheerfully meet Conrad's, and his face lights up, while only the delight shined bright in my eyes.


Leaving my body behind one of the open doors, I cannot let Conrad see the fresh bruises the kiss my wrists.

"Conrad!

It's uh-

So good to see you again!"

My voice pauses for but a moment, only to display in my tone what I truly feel on the inside when I see him. My eyebrows furrow and feelings genuine.

"It's been too long it seems."

| moondust |

{ credit to: zoë }

"how much
can the heart hold?"

The breeze flows gently through the only slightly open doorway, I can sense the quiet disturbance in the air, as though it was something worth hiding. Or perhaps, maybe it just wasn't something worth the mention. Seldom does a secret go past hushed voices and pursed lips, but this was one that could go without saying.


My studded eyes lock on his disturbed, golden halo. Biting the inside of my lip, almost to the point where I can taste just the iron in fresh, crimson blood. Slight hesitation in words come from my lips as I speak, and it wasn't to put Conrad to fault, nor make him feel unwanted. Fatigue and overwhelm are what showcase across my face, as bags that release beneath my unfocused eyes, and my voice that strains and comes with an unwelcoming tone.

"Yeah, it's been a while.
How have you been?"

The true answer of the question is left to uncertainty. Letting my tense guard down, I open the door even more, allowing the light to shine and illuminate even more so. Revealing a crown of diamond and gold, and silver and stone. I wrap my arms to my chest, and smile wider, hoping to remove the unwanted uncomfortable atmosphere . Although, it is clearly full of nothing genuine, only tiredness.

"I've been-

Well.

How ha-"

"Catrice-
You'll catch bugs,
Close the door."

Pursing my lips in irritation, I place my hand around the edge of the door. It is the split second where I can feel Conrad's eyes follow and make contact with the dark purple bruises around my wrists. A sigh escapes my lips and the opening becomes smaller and smaller, before I pause, then press my puckered lips to the edge of the door to think.

"Stay here.

I'll come out in about-

10 minutes."

And with that, I close the door, hoping to hear no more of my parents voices, urging me to stop communicating with Conrad. To them, he is nothing more than low social class trash, a bug to be caught and roam the house. There have been many times where I've defended him, and each time they try to bring me down.

| moondust |

{ credit to: zoë }

Days consisted of half eaten vanilla bean buttercream cakes, and tea that was left out cold. Sitting upon the silken sheets of a bed made for pure royalty, I read a book that was worn dry and sun-dusted with a leather back and handwritten scripture. The sacred rights of a human being.

Article. XVII
Section IV
"...There are two kinds of pride, both good and bad. 'Good pride' represents our dignity and self-respect. 'Bad pride' is the deadly sin of superiority that reeks of conceit and arrogance..."

Words darkened out upon the pages, forcing the ones left to reveal themselves for their true meanings. Beneath the sheer canopy of a bed fit for a queen, I felt the sensation of the day drift along as the sun set. Hues of pink, purple, blues, and oranges, soft like the dying sun, knocked against the window shutters upon my window frame. The sun had died down once upon a time ago, though the striking spectacle remains.


Marking down minute for minute, my eyes wander across the room, from clock to book, back to the window. Closed shutters had separated me from the world- separated me from Conrad- and the darkness settled when the light flickered off. Opening the shutters from the inside to the out, the light from where Conrad stood illuminated through my window.


The topside of a floral canopy, decorated with vines upon a white painted, sturdy, wooden lattice board. Stepping foot, and climbing down to the ground where a knight awaited for his queen, patiently. It was a forbidden, forsaken love that was ruled by the tyranny and disapproval of a vicious, greedy king. He wanted all that was never his, a foolish spine he is made to be.


Silence was no new face, and there was an obvious hesitation in the ambiance. Marked by the words unspoken, it didn't clearly tread within my mind, but the look that was painted across his face was one of concern and consideration. Eyes drawing to and fro it was an indication that the water colored wrists, I held deep into my pockets, were spilling over the fabric. A moment to collect thought scattered across the night sky in no specific constellation, though, maybe it was just one unknown. I skip the awkward talk, and move to the point, there was no room for small talk, when a question of "who did this" was set on the table.

"Conrad-

I... I can explain.

It's nothing serious."

It was lies set in place of the truth. Of course something was wrong, but the will to admit and raise the worrisome, was not something I could stand for. Denial was an option that was a companion from the start, and to leave Conrad concerned for my safety was not something I intended.

{ credit to: zoë }