you are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand
I'M DUMPING YOU, BYE
Fertile
11-17-2021, 07:10 PM
Whatever they were had become weighty and torturous. Theory thought their discussion with Eligos had sealed their fate, but Thalia had walked the long way back with her and then... she had gotten sick. So unbelievably sick. For the last few days it felt touch and go, and then Rhyme had died and nothing mattered any more. Nothing at all. Void had left to pursue his love - good for him. Good for fucking him. And here I am, shackled to you. Resentment had been building for longer than she'd realized, reaching an aching peak on that long, long walk home. How dare she, after all this time, choose something other than her. She had thought she understood it, the weight and responsibility of family. But her own family would never ask her to put aside her happiness for their endeavors. Never. Theory had stuffed her pain down deep, ready to hold it together until she could send Thalia off and mend her obliterated heart in solitude. And then she had gotten sick. So unbelievably sick. Before she'd dragged herself across the waters, she'd thrown up bile and fluorescent liquid for what felt like hours. It spread out behind her when she swam to the islands like a sick map, a trail to lead someone to her. Pain pulsed behind her eyelids. The darkness was excruciating. With every weak stroke of her legs bringing her close to the shore, she wondered what might happen if she just decided to stop swimming. That was all it came down to, right? One decision. The choice to give up. The temptation was so strong. Rhyme would take care of the pack, just like he always did. Everything would fi - When she hauled herself up on the opposite shore, dripping and heaving hard from exertion, she remembered Rhyme was dead. How did I forget he was dead? How could I forget something so important? What is wrong with me? The oozing blisters on her legs were smarting from the salt water. Every step burned. Theory dragged herself further across the sand, quaking with every step. What if she just laid down? What if she just... stopped? With a great, heaving breath - spattering bright spots of ooze on the sand as she exhaled - Theory collapsed and stared at the now-permanent stars in the sky. |
