drowning in you { nolive

Purple light, neon, fluorescent, one, two, three like gunshots in shot ears -- the biting of open wounds. Every blink a blur, a shot, a count, the slowed shutters of timelines between lilac skies, a drowsy soul, and a champion's ring. One, the world screams, hunched back and through a black eye, a neon light. Two, blood on the arm of my sweater, unsteady breathing. Three, I blink.

It's an orange day.  

Calm, a peach sky like heaven, like Ripred himself is sitting down to watch me. 

To watch Olive, and Hyacinth, gentle nods into the fish net of slumber I'm trying to catch myself from -- "what do I do?" The words mouthing on dry lips, maybe it's exhaustion talking. Hungover thoughts finding a way out into Ripred's watch, but I've never needed him; a heart closed off is a path to death, but in a district of plagues I never had a chance anyways. I rub my eyes, maybe I'm losing it. Slipping from my body into his hands -- I can't. Can't sleep, can't blink, can't think, Olive needs me. 

I hope. 

Blink -- one, two, fall, I watch the orange fade between lethargic eyelashes and slip back again; the warm morning sun like a mother's hug, like a fairy tale and I let it. Blink, a whisper in my ear, the gentle song of life and a blossoming winter breeze -- blink. There's a mother holding her child's hand, the first day of survival and blink there's a sinking feeling. Blink, one, two,

Three. For a second the orange fades, grey-lilac clouds fading somewhere between skin and thoughts and I watch it melt. Dream like ice cream, running down my finger tips in a trail and I breathe, the choral hum of life in my ears. Everything, gentle, all sweet things and I need it. Like the sky needs a sunset, and I watch it burn. From sherbet to orange to red to a gunshot, to pounding hearts and sweaty hands -- I run. It melts, from red to black to blue to purple. Neon, an empty street and pounding feet, tinted by good nights and empty shot glasses- I fall. 

My head nods, slips and I wipe spit from the side of my mouth. Shit, sweaty hands and dry mouth, I turn my eyes to god, and it's fucking with me. That orange sky, looking through the clouds for something else -- I never understood why people spent their life chasing it, that lion in the sky. I'm losing it, the smell of shots and sweat on my skin, I can't fucking do this. Lightheaded, pushing my weight on the side of the steps, bruh.

I've gotta stop drinking. 

And I try to stop blinking, rubbing each undreamt dream out of my eyes and throwing them bitches away but it's a dying match, burning and wheezing and falling out again, so I hold my breath. Hasty steps, clumsy and fast in my ears -- "Nori." And I feel the sky around my waist, like heaven itself, the tinted voice of citrus and I know I'm not dreaming, Nori.

I can't be.

Because he's every undreamt dream of mine, the stardust on his arms wrapped around mine, warm breathing a fire on my back and like a ghost it moves through my spine. Heat in my body, just a paper lantern lit by a dragon -- I need it. I need him like a candle needs a fire and the sky needs the sun, the fire in my chest illuminating. Nori, like a match, each breath an attempt to outrun exhaustion. "You can't leave me, you hear me?" It's all I want to do, listen to the way his voice circles my focus like an ocean, fuck. 

I must be losing it. 

Alcohol and exhaustion, the sweet scene of his soul on mine, and I can't do a thing but dream. Can't do anything but feel my heartbeat in my paper lantern skin, these unsteady breaths and "No matter who, what, or where, you can't go," it feels like he'll burn me alive. 

"You're stuck with me, Nori Graham."

"I know," so I let it. 

The paradise of burning -- a part of me loves it. Pressing my cheek to the top of his head, his slow breathing down the indention of my back, I bite my lip. Weary eyelids and the temptation to fall asleep with him around me; I'm intoxicated. This feeling doesn't come easy in a district like this, broken knuckles and bruised hearts, every ounce of lost blood, and he almost makes it worth it in this moment. 

"You are mine."


I think I finally realized why people pray to Ripred. 

In his voice is every sweet thing, the sound of my own name in his tone, fuck. Every part of me wants to hear it in every whisper of Nori, in the promises of belonging to something, the need of warmth to survive winter, like sun on my skin. 

Like a mother hugging her child. 

I blink, the receding of the ocean around me, pulling myself from Olive, I know. Trying to pull his eyes into mine, trying to see just us and only us; no dead weight, the fighting and funerals and holding his hand at reapings and drinking the night before, every empty shot glass and every filled casket. "I can't be," a boy, rotting in a firestorm -- I look in his eyes and see caskets. Fuck. An inhale, holding my breath, fuck, my forehead almost pressed to his, linking my arms around him, fuck, shit, it's every part of me to pull my eyes off of him, languid and heavy and it's impossible. 

Fuck, I-

I can't. 

Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe I'm losing my mind, but I've always been one to pick to burn alive than to drown. His neck soft in my pull, and fuck, fuck me, shit, I choke. Please," our foreheads pressed together and Ripred right ahead of me, I'm sorry. 

"Kiss me."

[ firestorm ]