to freeze or to thaw || roommates day 2 leisure
Oct 29, 2020 20:48:30 GMT -5
Post by brad bradford ★ d5b [arx] on Oct 29, 2020 20:48:30 GMT -5
vallora seth.
My knees are refusing to hold me upright, but I don't let them give. I cough, tasting blood as I flinch away from the pain shooting through my back. I hope I only bit my tongue. But the hole in my back properly strangles me, hand tight around my throat as the weight I'd been carrying comes down on my chest, as if an anvil alone weren't enough to kill me.
'Stubbornness is going to get you killed.'
I wish I could curse at the memory, but there's only one thing I can remember about my sister through this pain—she's always fucking right.
I try as best I can to deepen my breaths, tossing my knife into the dirt and snow we'd managed to churn up in dusty piles. It scuttles away harmlessly. For all my frustration I still don't have enough strength to force the blade through a soft blanket of snow. Not that I had enough to begin with.
Darkness ebbs and flows at the edges of my vision, unconsciousness just another weakness my uncle believed could be fought off by sheer power of will. I hate that I have him to thank for the steady steps I take.
I'm rushing forward with more than my own body can take, wounds tearing and shifting with every step. My vision reveals nothing more to me than a pinhole by the time I reach him.
I suppose this is what is left of my adrenaline. I press a shaking palm to the gash across his chest, the numbness in my fingers suddenly coming alive in pins and needles as ice cold flesh meets fiery hot blood.
"Hey," I keep my gaze averted, force my voice not to waver. "You're alright?"
That's why we ask questions, isn't it? To reassure ourselves?
Yes. Heh, ha.
"My fucking hero."
It hurts to laugh, but I do it anyway, a smile joining it as I fail to control the annoying ache of panic and worry and relief and joy stirring up a storm in my heart.
"You're lucky my hands are busy or I'd-" I shake my head, laughter still holding tight to each word even as the panic and worry swell in tandem, forcing me to choke back the rest. "Idiot."
Brave, stupid, strong, selfless fucking idiot.
If this was what it felt like to have someone care about you I wasn't sure I was strong enough or brave enough to handle much more. Guess my uncle has always been right about me. I was never bound for greatness and I deserve none of the associated perks—I'm only a stepping stone for those strong enough to take what has always been meant for them.
Or was this- was this what it felt like to care about someone else?
I haven't riddled out the answer before the joy and relief replace the fear two-fold, winds surging to breakneck speeds and lifting my eyes to his with smile breaking apart chapped lips and light flooding my vision until I can see only him.
A storm isn't so scary when you're soaring so far above it.
"and you feared a lonely death, like a lake leaves you alone in her depths."