quanticobled
quanticobled
𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄?
4 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
quanticobled · 5 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
482 notes · View notes
quanticobled · 5 years ago
Text
Caleb:
starter    for    @quanticobled 
     it    wasn’t    unusual    that    he    REMAINED    far    from    the    loop    that    his    former    classmates    spun    around    him    –    breaking    free    of    that    cycle    had    been    the    only    thing    that    had    kept    him    ALIVE    after    new    york.    she    keeps    him    informed    in    her    own    way,    his    phone    lighting    up    at    all    ours    of    the    night,    his    chest    ACHING    each    time    he    saw    her    name    flash    across    the    screen.    he    rarely    answered    –    he    didn’t    trust    himself    to,    not    when    the    BOND    that    once    buzzed    with    life    was    too    easy    to    resuscitate.    the    tangled    web    they    all    still    existed    in    was    suffocating    even    more    so    since    the    night    alex    called    &    dropped    a    bomb    in    his    lap    (    she    NEVER    could    manage    to    blow    her    own    life    apart    without    taking    them    all    with    her    ).    shelby    booth    –    the    sound    of    it    making    his    throat    clog    &    his    stomach    TURN,    he    had    booked    a    flight    before    he    had    even    processed    the    idea,    hoping    that    parrish    had    been    wrong,    over    reacting    as    she    did    when    booth    was    involved.    instead    he    was    greeted    with    the    sight    of    shelby    in    white,    &    it    had    NEARLY    been    enough    to    wash    away    the    anger    &    replaced    it    with    sorrow.    luckily    he    never    did    do    well    with    finding    footing    in    a    full    range    of    emotion    –    instead    he    could    focus    on    the    hurt    &    turn    it    into    QUICK    wit    that    acted    like    salve    to    the    gaping    wound    in    his    chest    with    her    fingers    dripped    with    crimson.    
       he    SHOULD    have    figured    it    to    be    a    lie    –    he    was    willing    to    demolish    any    structure    for    his    truth    to    fly    free,    but    she    had    always    been    PREPARED    to    hang    dig    a    grave    for    her    lies    to    hide    in.    when    booth    first    called,    he    let    it    ring,    more    ANNOYED    that    his    number    was    in    the    hands    of    the    fbi’s    most    wanted    reject    but    it    was    the    message    that    had    a    bag    packed    &    a    flight    booked    before    his    ears    were    freed    of    booth’s    robotic    tone.    guilt    shakes    his    core    &    widens    the    cracks    in    the    foundation,    she    had    been    HURT    –    again,    &    he    hadn’t    known.    selfishly    avoiding    a    life    that    called    to    him    like    a    siren,    punishing    him    the    most    PROFOUND    of    ways    by    going    after    her    when    he    ignored    the    tempting    song.    digits    press    into    the    bridge    of    his    nose,    his    head    THROBBING    after    the    hours    of    anticipation    of    seeing    her    again.    this    time    it    wasn’t    under    the    pretense    of    falsely    reigniting    their    flame    to    keep    her    from    yet    another    haas’    bed    post    or    saving    her    ass    from    her    own    determination    to    burn    to    ash    in    her    own    SELF    DESTRUCTION.    the    stop    to    his    hotel    had    been    brief    only    long    enough    to    share    an    insightful    conversation    with    everyone’s    least    favorite    rouge    that    landed    him    directly    in    front    of    the    gates    of    HELL.    
          the    ice    that    he    encased    himself    in    begins    to    THAW    the    second    she    opens    the    door    &    he    catches    a    glimpse    of    the    bruises    that    have    turned    milky    porcelain    to    a    portrait    of    indigo    &    violet.    they    should    have    called    him    SOONER.    ❝            from    goldilocks    to    million    dollar    baby,    guess    you    really    do    get    around.            ❞        slipping    through    the    space    that    had    barely    been    left    between    her    &    the    cracked    door    he    invited    HIMSELF    in.    the    air    too    heavy    &    no    amount    of    sarcasm    would    lessen    that    –    not    that    it    ever    stopped    him    from    trying.    her    walls    REMINDED    him    of    the    ones    that    remained    sheltered    in    during    their    time    at    quantico,    void    of    most    personal    collections    –    he    figured    it    had    SOMETHING    to    do    with    her    never    ending    search    to    find    the    right    bed,    but    always    seemingly    to    fall    short.    then    again,    maybe    if    she    had    VENTURED    out    of    the    family    pool    for    once    she    wouldn’t    be    drowning    in    regret    (    a    haas    speciality    ).    turning    to    face    her,    his    jaw    unclenching    to    spew    the    VENOM    that    had    been    eating    his    insides,    she    was    alone    &    he    almost    thinks    it    would    have    hurt    less    if    she    HADN’T    been.        ❝            shouldn’t    booth    be    here    ?    or    am    i    just    in    time    for    another    episode    of    sister    wives    ?            ❞
             𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄. 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊. For a moment there, she had thought that those were going to be the last words she’d ever hear. A gun held to her head. A millisecond away from death. A breath away from being to just being gone. All those books, stories, movies, all that stuff about 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 was total bullshit. None of that happened. There was too little time. All she could think about was that’s it? This is how it was going to end? In blood, with pain, with no one she loved nearby… this?
                It’s the after nothing prepares you for.
                             The surviving.
                                           The almost dying.
That’s when thoughts haunted you. That’s when things started replaying in your head. Stupid decisions. Wrong ones. Missed ones. Things she should have done, people she should have held close.
                                  Mostly, these thoughts revolved around a particular person.
               A person she’d never quite gotten out of her bloodstream the way she thought she had.
       It’s funny. The one name on her mind wasn’t Booth, her “husband,” it wasn’t the FBI. It was him.
And even now, with death only just passing her by, she couldn’t voice his name. Funny how that was a pain she wasn’t able to quite bear yet ( she fully planned on calling him after she looked more … presentable. Less blood, less cuts & bruises. Maybe a smile that didn’t hurt every muscle & then some ) when she’d come through literal torture.
𝑺𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 remained unsaid between them, she wasn’t sure how to start & a Sorry. I nearly died & all I can think about is that’s not how I want things to end — us to end didn’t quite cut it. They’d need to move past Facebook friends first. They had, sort of. She texted sometimes. He never really did but she knew he read them. He never told her to stop. That was something.
She jumps at the sound at her door, fingers checking for her gun, always at her side, always hyper-aware of every noise. Part of her wants to ignore it. She’s alone & honestly, at this point, it’s something she needs to get used to. She’d nearly died because a code had been more important than her life. She gets it. Really, she does.
Doesn’t stop it from hurting a little.
She can add it to the list of bruises & wounds she’s been nursing.
She takes a step back from her door, eyes wide, when she immediately recognizes the figure from her peephole.
Even without speaking his name, even without acknowledging it to herself, somehow he still shows up. He’s here. At her door.
Tumblr media
She opens the door, wondering why he’s here & remembering a beat too late, her hand faltering for a second, that if he doesn’t know then she really looks like hell. This wasn’t how she’d planned it & she tries to keep the worst of it hidden behind the door.
Something in her chest loosens, like an icicle thawing slightly at not just the sound of his voice but how Caleb he sounds. She doesn’t even bother responding. ❛ Caleb what are you doing here? ❜ Now of all times. At her door. After so many missed conversations. And then he’s inside her home. It’s so surreal she can almost blame the dizziness on him. She shuts the door, taking extra time to lock it, both because she does that now, but also to avoid him seeing her.
And just like that, the ice is back. Not quite as hard as before but there as if in response to the heat in his voice. Oh. Booth. She’d almost forgotten. She’s so exhausted she doesn’t have a good excuse.
She’s so tired of the lies, of lying to him that she doesn’t really try. Damn her cover, she almost died.
❛ He had something he had to do. ❜ Usually she does too but she’s being forced to rest. Like that’ll help. ❛ And I needed some time to myself. ❜ She can’t hide it any longer, the full extent of it all, might as well indirectly acknowledge it so he won’t. And maybe he’ll leave, take the hint. This isn’t how she’d planned for them to meet, not like this. ❛ Oh and, nice to see you too by the way. A phone call or even a text would have worked just fine but hey. ❜ She shrugs. ❛ So what brings you here anyway? ❜
2 notes · View notes
quanticobled · 5 years ago
Text
@quanticobred​​:
I woke up & you were gone
x. kristen is replying to things from months ago 2k18
 ❝ Cuddle sessions cost EXTRA, G.I Jane. && I’m not getting paid enough as it is. ❞ There’s nothing but amusement coating his tone, never glancing up from pouring their cups of coffee to rightfully address her. There was SOMETHING about being back in proximity to Shelby thatCHIPPED away at those walls he had so carefully built up around himself. He’s spent the better part of the last couple years FOCUSING on himself, on discovering who he was without his father looming over his shoulder, expecting him to fail. Law school had been aDISTRACTION, it hadn’t been what he had DREAMED but it was a step away from the shadow his family casted. It’s probably why leaving && not looking back came EASIER to him than he cared to admit – just because he was GOOD at it, didn’t mean he liked it. Instead he found himself falling into FAMILIAR routines with his ( what he used loosely ) friends && HER, pretending to be something with her that he had all too many memories to draw on for. There had been a time in his life when he thought that she was IT – a brief second where he thought that MAYBE they’d make it but who was he kidding ? They were more DOOMED than a teenage romance on one of those shows he used to catch her binging.   The next move made is one out of HABIT – a muscle memory from a time where waking up with her was simply part of a ROUTINE. It’s something he hadn’t even realized he missed – the normalcy of untangling himself from her grasp in the morning. Handing her the steaming mug, his mouth NEARLY brushing against hers before he has to remind himself that they AREN’T at Quantico && she’s only here to push away his BROTHER. Clearing his throat as he puts distance between them, features blank as he ignores his previous SLIP, lifting himself onto the counter in a singular movement, his normal smirk finding it’s place at the corner of his lips. There are a couple quiet PAUSES before he regains his composure, purposely IGNORING the fact she was wearing HIS shirt from all those years ago. TRUTH is – he hadn’t minded her frame pushed up against his, her light breaths ticking his chest, blonde strands fanned out as she finally allowed herself some sort of rest. As easy as it was to forget the WEIGHT she carried on her shoulders when she stands as if NOTHING could hold her down, he hadn’t forgotten her mention of the LACK of sleep she was getting. It makes him wonder if the team had any idea how far she was willing to PUSH herself.  ❝ MODEL MAGIC left for the day so you’re in the CLEAR. ❞
        𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃, 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃, 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃. That’s how she’d woken. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well, not since — & the smile on her lips ( the one she hadn’t even known was there until she felt it freeze ) disappears as she takes the unfamiliar surroundings ( & as her fingers instinctively reach & are only met with cold emptiness. ) After a sharp inhale, she realizes where she is — the scent of him lingering even when he hadn’t. The familiar cologne, the shirt she’s wearing, the room, him, all of it is so achingly familiar ( while simultaneously, heartbreakingly unfamiliar ) in a way she had thought long-forgotten that it hurts, heart pounding a little too fast as she realizes where she was, what she’d been doing ( who she had been reaching for mere moments ago. ) She’s left feelingly empty, & a little nostalgic for a thing that never quite was, for a thing that almost had been, her defenses not quite up to her usual standards when groggy from sleep.
        𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 ( how had he felt when he’d woken up? Was this … okay? ) Last night had been different, not quite intentional like all their other moves have been. She hadn’t meant to spend the night, & she sure as hell hadn’t meant to fall asleep in Caleb Haas’s bed ( not again. ) He’d been … nice. As nice as he got with her after everything, telling her how awful she’d looked whilst throwing her the shirt ( the shirt! ). She takes a few breaths, arms hugging her knees to her chest as she wills her heartbeat to go back to normal ( wills for it all to stop hurting. ) As successful as she’ll be, she gets up, allowing the routine of fixing the bed to calm her down instead, fingers carefully straightening out the edges before trying to do the same with her ( his ) slightly rumpled shirt ( as if bracing for battle with what little armors he has. It’s oddly comforting, the shirt. Like having an old friend back. She’s not returning it. Come to think of it … she never had. )
        𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑, 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄, now working at tugging her mussed up hair in place as she sees him. The words are out before she’d thought about them ( & if she had, she wouldn’t have said them. ) ❛ I woke up, & you were gone. ❜ I woke up & you never woke me. I woke up & you had left ( wasn’t that always the case with them? ) She tries for a smile to hide how sad her words had been & when he gives her a typical Caleb reply, part of her wants to because of how … familiar this all is ( the other part wants to walk away right now because of how wrong it all feels because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. His sarcasm was never this sharp, not at her. Not since the beginning. ) ❛ I wasn’t aware there was any payment involved. ❜ How could she pay him back? She can barely say thank you without the words getting caught in her throat. Her smile is in full bloom now, because he’s not as guarded, just Caleb. Here. With her. And they’re not fighting. And she’d slept.
          Eyes fall to the cups he’s pouring & just like that, it’s as if some of that armor she’d been preparing herself with from earlier cracks, a grateful sound somewhere between a groan & an exclamation out of her lips. ❛ Oh thank you. ❜ He remembered. He bothered. Fingers reach out the same moment he holds the cup out, as if it’s a dance they’ve practiced, perfected & she leans in a little without thinking about it, head tilted — & breath catching as he’s close so close, any thoughts of sleep long gone as she’s jolted by his proximity, by the near touch. She fidgets placing the cup on the counter so she can tie her hair into a messy ponytail just for something to do while he puts distance between them. She grabs the cup & wraps her fingers around it, needing the warmth now that his body is ( yet again ) further away. 
Tumblr media
     Her head snaps up, eyes on him when he speaks. ❛ What? Oh — ❜ she realizes she’d forgotten all about Clay. Funny, isn’t that why they’re here? ❛ Yeah. Thanks. ❜ She takes a sip, savoring in the warmth, not just from the drink but from the thought that had gone into making her a cup to. ❛ I um — thank you. ❜ She wants to be clear. They had joked about her not paying him but she’s very much aware that he’s here for her this time, no questions asked ( well, no words spoken at all. She hadn’t even known he was coming. ) ❛ For this but also for last night. I must have been exhausted. I can’t remember the last time I just … it feels like I blacked out. ❜ Or, you know, actually slept. ❛ Sorry. I’ll make sure I go home earlier next time. ❜
0 notes
quanticobled · 5 years ago
Text
Caleb​:
❝    everything    suits    me.    ❞    a    grin    flashes    at    the    end    of    his    words,    this    was    what    normalcy    had    looked    like    for    them.    HOME    was    never    a    place    that    he    returned    to    when    everything    fell    apart    –    he    didn’t    really    have    one    of    those,    not    until    he    found    her.    he    spent    so    long    CLIMBING    those    walls    of    hers    that    he    never    stopped    to    realized    what    it    meant    once    he    was    inside.    he    hadn’t    know    that    warmth    of    comfort,    the    way    his    heart    was    capable    of    beating    faster    just    from    SEEING    her    across    the    room    –    he    didn’t    know    love,    not    really,    until    he    let    himself    stumble    into    it    with    her.    they    weren’t    IDEAL    –    hell,    he    couldn’t    remember    a    time    where    they    actually    agreed    on    something,    where    he    didn’t    feel    like    ripping    his    hair    out    as    she    challenged    every    word    before    he    had    the    chance    to    say    it,    but    in    TRUTH,    he    wouldn’t    have    it    any    other    way.    DIFFERENT    –    a    chase    she’s    found    thrill    in    since    he    guesses    she    was    young    but    this    aged    her    beyond    her    years    (    he    assumed    that    had    been    the    point,    after    all    he    was    sure    it    was    something    his    father    adored.    )    ❝    you    always    did    want    what    you    couldn’t    have.    ❞    the    tease    drips    from    his    lips    with    the    same    EASE    of    the    crimson    that    leaks    into    the    cracks    of    the    floor.    
reality    crashes    into    him    with    a    NEW    wave    of    pain    that    he    bites    into    his    lip    to    keep    from    voicing.    the    taste    of    metallic    bursting    against    his    tongue,    his    jaw    clenching    as    he    nodded    –    he    COULDN’T    think    about    his    father    right    now,    he    had    no    choice    but    to    believe    that    when    they    got    out    of    here,    he’d    be    waiting    for    him,    another    lecture    regarding    caleb’s    recklessness    SURELY    taking    top    priority.    there    is    a    noise    of    agreement    lost    in    the    quaking    of    the    crumbling    building    –    there    was    no    option    BEYOND    her    continuing    her    life    after    this,    he    didn’t    accept    a    world    where    shelby    didn’t    exist.    it    wasn’t    something    he    was    CAPABLE    of    comprehending.    it’s    almost    alarming    to    him,    the    way    his    existence    depends    on    hers    –    even    through    their    separation.    he    was    able    to    continue    his    days    knowing    that    she    was    out    there    somewhere,    living    her    life    –    &    that    had   been    ENOUGH    for    him.    had    her    stubbornness    not    ruled    her,    she    wouldn’t    be    here,    she’d    be    safe.        ❝    you    should    have.    ❞        he    latches    onto    her    next    REQUEST    as    if    he    had    found    a    form    of    god    given    salvation,    ‘    stay    with    me    ’    –    he    would    have    KILLED    to    hear    those    words    months    prior.    ❝    save    the    demands    for    the    boiler    room,    hoover.    ❞    a    musing    uttered    out-loud    with    a    grin    pulling    on    his    lips.        
leaning    heavily    against    a    piece    of    rubble    he    lets    his    eyes    rest    while    her    voice    fills    the    emptiness    LINGERING    between    them    –    it    was    soothing,    if    he    ignored    the    panic    that    had    begun    to    color    her    tone.    there    had    been    a    TIME    where    he    doubted    that    he’d    hear    the    soft    spoken    nature    she    emitted    –    where    he    had    chalked    her    existence    up    to    being    the    one    that    got    AWAY,    ignorant    to    the    fact    that    she    had    kept    herself    tangled    within    the    haas    family    tree.    the    pain    of    that    knowledge    nearly    impactful    enough    to    overpower    the    searing    white    heat    that    was    STAINING    his    shirt    a    dark    crimson.    ❝    they    didn’t    deserve    you.    ❞    a    small    breath    escaping    as    if    he    were    on    his    knees    in    confessional,    purging    his    sins.    he    wasn’t    sure    there    was    anyone    deserving    of    her,    he    had    TRIED    to    be    but    in    the    end,    her    light    had    burned    the    wings    of    icarus,    scorched    feathers    lay    in    waste    at    their    feet.    her    admission    has    his    heart    staggering    to    find    it’s    rightful    beat    –    ❝    my    number    never    changed.    ❞    hurricane    alex    wreaking    HAVOC    through    their    lives    was    nothing    more    than    a    normal    occurrence    on    a    day    that    ended    in    y,    he    should    have    expected    this    would    be    the    very    reason    their    paths    crossed    AGAIN.    
his    cheek    rests    at    the    crown    of    her    head,    inhaling    the    familiar    scent    even    in    the    midst    of    the    ash    that    COATED    them.    contentment    forming    a    knot    in    his    stomach    only    she    had    the    power    to    induce    –    she    had    destroyed    him    &    yet    here    he    was,    feeling    more    put    together    than    he    had    in    MONTHS    because    of    her.    the    brief    moment    of    solace    is    broken    as    she    reads    between    the    lines    of    his    confession    –    dull    hues    of    grey    blinking    open    as    she    begins    to    move,    a    wince    PLAINLY    visible    as    his    jaw    ticked.    ❝    i’m    good    at    what    i    do.    ❞    it’s    not    confidence    but    fact,    he    had    secured    his    future    with    the    determination    to    prove    his    father’s    DISBELIEF    incorrect,    helping    her    seemed    to    be    the    drive    that    pushed    him    past    those    limitations.        ❝    you    worked    too    hard    to    let    alex    &    the    discount    hardy    boys    destroy    that.    ❞    the    conversation    they    had    when    this    all    STARTED    was    remembered    vividly,    she    hadn’t    wanted    them    to    be    more    in    fear    of    distraction    &    yet    now    that    she    had    her    DREAM,    she    was    risking    everything    for    the    clue    crew    (    &    for    what    ?    )    ❝    i’m    not    going    anywhere    but    you    have    to    get    out    of    here.    ❞
                    𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐇𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 as she latches onto the familiarity, the comfort of Caleb being Caleb ( & she ignores the relief, the happiness, the longing that’s invoked by it. ) ❛ You keep telling yourself that. You can’t tell me you don’t miss it. Being out on the field. ❜ She remembers seeing it even then, restless frame pretending to effortlessly lounge about while the NATs worked hard. He is good at it, but being good at something & wanting it are so very different ( just like how one can be good at being alone, after having been so nearly all her life, but wanting 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. ) Yet she clings to the words, the smile she can hear in his words even if she can’t see it, how, if she were to shut her eyes, she could almost pretend they were okay ( wasn’t that their story from beginning to end? ) She stiffens at his words, first defensively, then in hurt, then she starts to wonder. With the heaviness of the dust & ashes around them, nearly choking them, doubt starts to creep in. Maybe he’s right. Maybe that’s what it’s always been. She’s always wanted home — not the large, empty mansions she was left with when her world came crashing down, but the person she could call that. Empty buildings were just that — cold, lifeless, & quiet. She’d chased it, but then backed up when it became too real, became possible. She wants it still, but she keeps herself so distant, her walls so high that it really is unattainable. She realizes she’s been quiet for too long & forces her frame to relax & keep her voice steady. ❛ I am different. Not everything but enough. I needed something to show for it. ❜ Something visible as proof for the invisible scars she know bears.
 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄, 𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍, she’s not even aware of it until much later when the world around them threatens to crumble even further. She’s not losing him. Not like this. Not again.
Tumblr media
         ❛ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. ❜ It’s starting to dawn on her. Why he’s here, what he’s doing, & she wonders how much of her guesswork is right & how much is wishful thinking ( that thing about wanting things she can’t have ). She would have shoved him if they were anywhere else, if she wasn’t worried the small action wouldn’t cause him pain. It speaks too much of a past that’s weighting extra heavily on her right now. She still can’t help the half-smile that forms. She’s overcome with an alien urge of wanting to bury her face in his chest & just breathing him in. The words are too much for her frayed nerves & she’s not sure what she wants to say. They hurt too much in a way she can’t explain ( maybe because if she thinks about it, deep deep down, she’s always thought it’s the opposite. That’s why she’s always the one standing by herself. Alone. They leave. They always leave. ) She opens her mouth to say something, anything, but all she gets out is his name ( the only solid thing in her life — before she tore it down — the the only solid thing here. ) ❛ Caleb I — ❜ How does she tell him what the words mean? What she feels? How does she tell him that his number may not have changed but too much else had and the thought of calling was both a cause for hope & terror? ( What if he didn’t pick up? What would she even say? How could she say it? ) Yet horror chokes her, halting her words & all other thought as she sees the crimson blossoming along his white shirt from the corner of her eye. She shifts, turning to better face him, ignoring how much she feels the lack of his frame pressed up against hers. ❛ You’re still bleeding. ❜ Her voice is even though it wavers slightly,  a sharp contrast to the turmoil within. She leans in closer ( like a magnet, like a moth to a flame. ) ❛ What can I do? ❜ She’s trying to hold it together, if not for her sake then for the both of them, but it’s becoming harder at the thought of him hurting, at the thought of him… Her arms hover, as unsure & unsteady as her heart.
    ❛ 𝐖𝐞’𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝. ❜ She remembers, he put in just as much work as she did, fought & earned his right for the seat at the table rather than getting it handed to him like she’d assumed so long ago ( I’m not coasting on anything Taylor Swift. She still remembers his face, the tone of his voice — & the way she couldn’t stop looking. ) ❛ We’re going to get out of this & we’ll figure it out. ❜ Together. Unspoken but it might as well be. Yet somehow saying it aloud makes it almost sound scary rather than a comfort. Or maybe it’s both. ( Maybe saying it allows him to scoff at it. ) Her gaze snaps to his, anger & rebellion flashing in her eyes. ❛ 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮. ❜ Not again & sure as hell not like this.
11 notes · View notes