the golden fire escape brigade ; cedric & ruby
Apr 28, 2024 18:13:16 GMT -5
Post by ᴥ on Apr 28, 2024 18:13:16 GMT -5
CEDRIC
"No that's the point." Sap weeps from fresh wounds, the memory scars just as deep. Pitted into the side of my tongue with teeth instead of a blade. "It's beautiful," I keep him safe in my peripheries, playful as I lean my shoulder against his, "why would I ruin that with forever?"
He wears a brand new kind of smile, stretched wide around his teeth. My favorite so far with that bit of dirt stuck to his chin. He'd ruin it if I told him. I obsess over the secrecy of it, hands fisted in my pockets to keep a hold of greed.
There's a burning in my cheeks that isn't blush or lingering heat. Shame is so much darker, there's an anger in the way it settles in uneven splotches along the lines drawn by veins. For a second I am standing in a field of ash, smelling of bitter smoke and cut grass. And there's a stranger beside me, standing too. I don't know who he is but I've spent the better part of my evening pretending I do.
And I know I'm smarter than this.
For a second, falling from that tree felt a little like I was flying. I'm well suited to wax wings, I think.
I look down at the device hooked around my forefinger, then back at Ruby. At a loss for words, the look on his face names him a thief. Approaching headlights carve out his silhouette in brilliant flashes until he's lovingly stained in acceleration. Looking at him feels like staring down certain death.
They don't have many cars in One. "I don't know-"
My shoulders relax, I nod whilst scrambling to find my voice. Lost somewhere in the roar of traffic and the pulse pounding in my ears. Sawed-off tension collapses in on itself, I let myself be led to his car. I'm sure it's very expensive; it looks like a death trap. "How is this safe?" I worry aloud, running a hand along exposed frame.
Still, I slide in beside him and try not to flinch when the engine roars to life. I was not a good liar to begin with, now I'm having a panic attack in the passenger seat. Watching as the world melts into a fluorescent blur, streaks of twilight and muted color. "I don't usually do this." (I've never done this before). Close enough to the truth that I don't choke on it.
I press my fingers to my lips to keep nausea at bay.
My other hand creeps onto his seat, into the hem of his shirt. I tangle my fingers in the fabric and exhale through clenched teeth.
"We'll be there soon, right?"
Perhaps I should have asked where we were going.
He wears a brand new kind of smile, stretched wide around his teeth. My favorite so far with that bit of dirt stuck to his chin. He'd ruin it if I told him. I obsess over the secrecy of it, hands fisted in my pockets to keep a hold of greed.
There's a burning in my cheeks that isn't blush or lingering heat. Shame is so much darker, there's an anger in the way it settles in uneven splotches along the lines drawn by veins. For a second I am standing in a field of ash, smelling of bitter smoke and cut grass. And there's a stranger beside me, standing too. I don't know who he is but I've spent the better part of my evening pretending I do.
And I know I'm smarter than this.
And I'm so tired of being clever.
For a second, falling from that tree felt a little like I was flying. I'm well suited to wax wings, I think.
"You want to drive?"
I look down at the device hooked around my forefinger, then back at Ruby. At a loss for words, the look on his face names him a thief. Approaching headlights carve out his silhouette in brilliant flashes until he's lovingly stained in acceleration. Looking at him feels like staring down certain death.
They don't have many cars in One. "I don't know-"
"Or maybe I should drive."
My shoulders relax, I nod whilst scrambling to find my voice. Lost somewhere in the roar of traffic and the pulse pounding in my ears. Sawed-off tension collapses in on itself, I let myself be led to his car. I'm sure it's very expensive; it looks like a death trap. "How is this safe?" I worry aloud, running a hand along exposed frame.
Still, I slide in beside him and try not to flinch when the engine roars to life. I was not a good liar to begin with, now I'm having a panic attack in the passenger seat. Watching as the world melts into a fluorescent blur, streaks of twilight and muted color. "I don't usually do this." (I've never done this before). Close enough to the truth that I don't choke on it.
I press my fingers to my lips to keep nausea at bay.
My other hand creeps onto his seat, into the hem of his shirt. I tangle my fingers in the fabric and exhale through clenched teeth.
"We'll be there soon, right?"
Perhaps I should have asked where we were going.