24 Nov 2024, 09:50
In Silence, I Unfold
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| xxxxxxxx | Dreams. The hollow kind, sharp edged and glimmering with unreachable promises, fainting away as you step closer. False light, pressed heavy against her chest, searing into her mind as if the heavens themselves sought to brand her unworthy. Purity, they said, with their blinding brilliance that scorched her gaze and left her knees bruised and bloody on the floor. A mockery of grace. Dreams turned to ashes, poisoning the air, each breath a struggle. She could taste it - the acrid burn of something that was once beautiful. Ivy, vines clutching at her ribs, crawling towards her heart. There was no peace in the quiet. The darkness lingered, not beyond her but within - a festering thing, pulsing and alive, whispering truths in a voice she could not silence. It wasn't the dreams that made her feel fractured, it was the shadow they left behind, curling at the edges of her mind, grip tightening with every breath. The cracks weren't just in the surface, they went deeper. She could feel them spreading, irreversible breaking, silent unraveling. Something inside her was wrong. Something inside her was rotting. And maybe it always had been. She woke up with a silent scream, heart hammering in her chest. Shadows swirled above her, thickening, making the room grow smaller and smaller. Her ears were buzzing, head spinning, breath shallow. Clutching the edges of her bed, she dragged herself towards her nightstand. Groping in the dark, her fingers finally wrapped around the familiar shape of her wand. Casting a faint light over the eerily empty room - her roomates were deeply asleep, scattered at the edges of their dorm - her breath was still erratic. Muffling a sob that was about to break the heavy silence, she layed back in the thickening bed, tears falling from her eyes. Slowly sinking, her breath slowed and her eyes closed. Before a smoky shadow whose face was adorned with antlers loomed over her, strangely smiling. Straightening up with a sharp gasp, she glanced around the room, heart resuming its rapid beats. No one. Of course. The're just dreams. Just dreams, she silently repeated, resting her head on her arms as she curled up, leaning against the bedframe. 23:25 The clock ticked, each passing minute a reminder she should be deeply asleep, not figthing imaginary demons. She was growing more and more tired of the relentless cycle of her sleepless nights, the weight of her insomnias pressing harder with every day passing. Anger and frustration were slowly building inside her chest. The urge to scream, to tear everything down clawed at her throat. Sighing, she leaned to grab her notebook, the blue one. Flipping through the pages, she stared at colorful drawings of a firefly, the moon, her friends. The smile wouldn't come. Such a strange thing, smiling. Effortless, yet so hard to fake when your heart is slowly sinking. Drowning. Rubbing her eyes - yet another dark circle added to her collection - she stared at the night slowly extending its claws over the peaceful lake. A single tearslipped down her cheek - she wiped it away with a finger, absentmindedly. sHer gaze fell to her reflection, distorted in the faint light. Tainted. It was the only word for it. Every line, every feature felt wrong - stained, indelible ink rotting within herself. The mirror seemed to cracked, revealing the abomination lurking at the corners of her mind, clawing at the edges of her sanity. She closed her eyes and turned her head before she could see it - but she knew, she knew it was here. Watching. Whispering. Breathing with her. I need air. Freak. She rose to her feet, tugging on a hoodie without thinking tiwce, the warm fabric comforting. The walls of her room felt too close, too tight, and she rushed outside, pace unsteady. The corridors stretched like a labyrinth, the air thickening with every breath. Slowing down, she forced herself to breath as she made her way to the main gates. The moon, almost full, casted a silver glow over the lake, as it did on the countless time she crumbled here. But tonight, the stars betrayed her, rolling down her cheeks. Almost surprised by their presence, she wipe them away - but the tears kept coming, an ocean pouring from her eyes, shaking fingers trying to stop it. Shivering, she turned her steps towards to her favourite tree - the weeping willow, whose shade hid her from the lingering figures. A faint rustle broke the stillness, snapping her out of her thoughts. She turned away, wand drawn towards the intruder. The scene felt foreign - eyes squinted in anger, tears streaming down her cheeks, wand aimed towards the throat of the lion, fury. Wait. Blinking the tears away, shapes slowly forming before her, the shadow took a human form. Sun-kissed cascading locks, a pale blonde, as if the sun itself had lingered too long in his embrace. Eyes, stormed - touched, the color of silver blades, glinting faintly with crismon in the moonlight. Hands lifted, fingers splayed as if caught mid-surrender, a confused expression plastered on his face. Him. The tip of her wand was brushing his throat, her hand shaking slighlty. Her breath was erratic, but she did not lower her wand. She felt raw, exposed, like an open wound laid bare for the world to see. What is he doing here ? The idea of anyone seeing her like this made her heart sink. Her carefuly crafted appearance, the lingering smiles, the calmness that surrounded her. That was the version of herself she allowed to be seen. Not this hagard, chaotic mess that barely felt human. What is he doing here ? Her navy eyes planted in his, silence stretched across them. Her hand twichted slightly, her mind desperately searching for a solution. Slowly lowering her wand, she took a step back, breathing heavily. The urge to talk, to find a plausible explanation was almost unbearable, but she knew her voice would crack should she say anything. Anger swirled beneath the surface. Taking deep breath, she tried to regain her composure - something she never managed, especially at night. Not daring to look at him again, terrified of what she could find - fear ? pity ? judgment ? - she kept her gaze fixed on the lake, its shimmering surface easing her. "Don't," she finally muttered, barely audible. Don't what ? Don't speak ? Don't ask ? Don't look at me like that ? Groaning she turned her back on him, burying her head in her hands. Why now ? And why him, of all people ? The one person who grated her nerves, the one person who was always too smug, too sharp, too much - he was the one to stumble accross her at her lowest. Brilliant. Those were the rare moments she wished she could go back in time, erase this memory. Burn it. Tear it. Let it crumble to ash. Anything to undo this terrifying sensation of vulnerability. She learned to silence her pain, muffling it under a complicated layer of empathy, smiles and care. No one was meant to see what was beneath the surface. Not even her.
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| ❝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤, 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥.❞ ☘︎ STAFF ACCOUNT ; ᴍᴀʟᴀɪᴋᴀ ᴏᴍᴇɴᴜᴋᴏ |
9 Dec 2024, 20:30
In Silence, I Unfold
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𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆 ; •...11-12 / 15 / 2024 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 ; •.great lake, grounds. 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 ; •1293. |
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••latin / greek / italian / english•... ; 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔 |
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| ••••••••• | •••••••• B efore he was able to process the situation fully, an alarmed Sanguinius was met with the sharp end of a chestnut-crested wand, pointed directly at his throat with such precision that he almost forgotten that he was not facing a blade -- there was no mistaking the deadly intentions, he could hear the harsh panting from the other end, a surprising amount of desperation found within the gulps of air of each short pause she took, chest rising in and out to accommodate the slight trembling that overtook the girl's entire hand. Even with the coverage provided by the shadows that were influenced by the willow tree and the moon's doing, he could still see the narrowing bloodshot eyes and the pools of twilight navy that had once reminded him of an endless, starless night, surrounded by a delicate patchwork of veins that trailed toward them. His heart had picked up from the sudden surge of adrenaline he had gotten - like an addict, his instincts that were buried not too long ago were rising from their long, adulterated slumber to fight, fight, fight. But it wasn't as terrible of a case as the girl clearly was having, Sanguinius had now cursed, he was not well equipped to handle such hysterics nor was he going to learn how right at the second - one wrong move and she could easily rip his throat clean apart with one calculated spell like a rabid hound aiming to kill in a hunt-gone-wrong, or he could just move out of the way and wrench the wand out of her fingers. By then, his breath had hitched, his adam's apple bobbing slightly, silver-laced curls falling in front of his face and widened eyes as one lone thought ran through his head.
Fuck. She's nice to look at. " Well, hello to you, too. " was what had came out of the lion's lips, instead. Sanguinius watched as the girl staggered away from him, managing to snap herself out of the self-induced frenzy that was rapidly bordering on the throes of a panic attack -- the remnants of being taken aback by the outburst with some slight agitation at the fact that his initial approach had now been disrupted had made him wish that he had handled things a little more differently - perhaps, announced his presence a little clearly beforehand. Whatever had spooked her was enough to make her clamp up like a tightly shut shell upon his arrival, and that was not the Elena that he was familiar with, not used to. Then again, they have never been that close. She had always been a bit prickly, sure, but never to this extent, it strangely felt like he was looking through a mirror - how many times had he seen those same bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes, felt the nearly sickening shame that followed right after ? A few more times than he could count. “ Seriously, picking a tree as your hideaway and sneaking out ? You’ve got some nerve, Clark. ” He couldn't keep the exasperation out of his voice, though, his words carried more trepidation than he had cared to admit when it was finally spoken out loud - caution disguised under a thin layer of ease that made it seem as if he was making a joke and not a statement. " I would have thought you were the type to play safe and curl up by the fireplace. " What was she thinking? Drawing her wand so recklessly out in the open as if she were some crazed inmate that had just recently escaped from the clutches of Azkaban. It was only a good ( and somewhat bad ) thing that they were both alone -- thank merlin for that -- otherwise the faint, flickering light from the pointed end of her wand that he presumed she had used to light her way would have alerted the groundskeeper or anyone that was wandering the outside of Hogwarts at the moment. “ Sipping on some hot cocoa, flipping through poetry -- not scaring the life out of guys who happened to find you. ” His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he wanted to reach out to her, the only thing that was holding him back from doing so was the uncertainty he held of whether or not the Ravenclaw would finally crack under the pressure or recoil from any movements he made that indicated contact. In the end, Sanguinius clenched his fist, bit down on his tongue for he knew better than to continue prodding, and took a glance around the inside of the willow tree. The interior was surprisingly spacious for a tree that appeared like it wasn't much at first, an unexpected sanctuary draped in wispy, beryl curtains of green, filtering the shine of moonlight that spilled gently onto the still surface of the lake beyond the recesses of the embracing branches. The earth crunching beneath his shoes was soft, cushioned by layers and layers of fallen leaves laden with moisture and wild moss that grew without much of a reason or limit -- managing to spread over the gnarled roots at the bottom until the whole trunk was enveloped by a dense cloak of lichen. As he peered closer, there markings on the tree - initials of couples inside misshapen hearts carved deep into the flesh of the bark, random messages from previous students that had once roamed the castle throughout the ever-changing decades, and an unusal collection of symbols that the lion could not make heads or tails of. " I'm not saying anything. " Sanguinius broke the silence that had settled after she had spoken, his tone carried no traces of judgement or the falsely placed smugness that was previously there, like that of a crown made out of thorns placed upon the bleeding brow of a usurper -- the thin veneer of the material flaking off reminded him of the way Elena's expression had gone through the five stages of grief before she immediately reigned herself in. Fool's gold, for those unknowing that didn't know the difference between real and fake, was a common nickname for pyrite, a mineral that was worth little to none on the marketplace even though it bore a resemblance with gold, illusive, much like the facade that Elena had. He had only caught a glimpse of what the girl had truly concealed beneath her carefully constructed even-tempered persona, and it didn't shake him. It made him curious. " Look, " Sanguinius swept his hair back, running a hand through the champagne strands before resting his palm at the nape of his neck. He let out a slow, strained sigh, the sound carrying a sort of weight that seemed to match the tension between them. His eyes lingered on her back for a moment, a flicker of understanding in his gaze as he continued, voice strained and hesitant to admit. " I get it." |
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| ••••••• | 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅 •@elena clark |
𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 •admitting. |
𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔 ; ••str 5 | eva 4 | str 6 | wis 5 | arc 5 | acc 5 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 - 𝒗𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒂 ; •alluring | ab. | ab. | ab. | ab. | ab. |
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| ▬▬▬▬ | == | ( @ 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 ) | == | 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝. ♛ 𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅. |
14 Dec 2024, 01:45
In Silence, I Unfold
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| xxxxxxxx | Her ragged breath was the only thing she could hear. Jagged and uneven, like wind scraping against broken glass. Her heart, hamering in her chest, felt like a desperaye drumbeat threatening to tore its confines. Behind her eyes, a swarm of hornets buzzed, an electric hum that refused to quiet. She winced in pain before pinching the arch of her nose, praying for it to stop. Everything felt - too much. The fabric of her sweater wrinkled as she cluchted it, trying to restrain the crazy drumming of her heart. Not now, please. Panic attacks were her daily basis, and she eventually learned to act through them, but now was not a good time. Silence stretched around her, catching her in a complicated web - every move she made only burried her deeper. It felt heavy and light, shameful and comforting. The golden boy standing right in front of her didn't helped the situation.
His icy gaze rested on her, travelling her disheveled state. Usually, a sharp remark would have blurted out by now - but she feared her voice would crack. It felt strange not to have the usual banter between the two students, a strange silence replacing her icy retorts. The lion kept talking, babbling about things she did not catch, too focused on learning how to breathe properly. This resulted in an annoying chatter, background noises that shattered her concentration. Could you just shut up ? Fighting the urge to scream, she chewed on her lower lip, brushing a hand through her honey curls as a low sigh escaped her. A word - poetry - caught her attention and brought her back to the present moment. Curiously enough, the constant flood of words leaving Demarest's mouth seemed to have grounded her, brought her back to her senses. She now felt the small spark of annoyance that usually ignited wherever he was, but it felt familiar, safe. I'm not dreaming. A scoff escaped her as he rambled about what what she should be doing. If only you knew. The persons that had encountered her in this particular state were rare, almost inexistant - but the few that did always thought it was occasional. I couldn't sleep, was usually the excuse she blurted, and they didn't look at it twice, preferring to talk about their own problems. Which was fine with her. Her state was beyond fucking saving so why would she burden anyone with it ? Then again, this Demarest boy seemed far more... perceptive than half the people she had met. She hated it. Hated how his eyes storms gathered at the horizon, silver blades pierced right through her, right through the carefully constructed layers of her personality. She hated how he made her feel seen. He looked right at her. Right through her. She felt like an open book - which was never, ever the case. Elena was the one to read people, to analyse them. The observer was never seen, it was the way of things. She felt scrutinized, like an insect pinned on a dashboard, waiting to be examined. Her back was stilled turned on him, gaze fixated on the tranquil reflection of the moonlight on the shining waters. The lake felt calm, safe. The soft branches of the weeping willow caressed her cheek, as she clutched her arms in an attempt to shield herself from the cold that seems to reach her bones. His voice rose once again, which made her stiffen, fighting the urge to break down. She didn't know how to handle another person in this state, she didn't- Tears formed at the border of her eyes - not falling, just lingering. " Look, " he sighed. The gentleness in his tone eased the tension that rested in her shoulders, as she looked right in front of her, refusing to turn around. " I get it." Silence. A snowflake crashed from the night sky, twirling down before deposing itself on her shoulder. She turned her head slightly, before the rest of her body followed. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she pivoted on her feet. Now facing him, she bore her eyes through his, silent. Snow was slowly falling down, entangling with his champagne locks. Who are you ? she wondered, as she searched for the answers in his eyes, ashes of a long dead star. The whisper of an untold promise. Her face was rid of every single masks that had previously tried to cover it, she felt bare. A crystal tear broke free, before she could even realise it, slowly rolling down her cheek. Time passed - seconds ? minutes ? hours ? - before she ripped her gaze from him, looking back at the lake. The silence was almost unbearable now, as if Atlas's burden was resting on her frail shoulders. She needed to break it, needed to explain herself. "I'm-" she started, looking back at him. The rest of her sentence got lost, the words entangling in her mouth. The lies wouldn't couldn't come out. "Thank you." She said instead, sincerity transcending her voice. Her tone was soft, little puffs of airs escaping from her mouth, slightly cracking on the end. Tightening her arms around her, she sighed, closing her eyes. The cold slowly invaded her, creeping onto her bones. She welcomed it. Darkness embraced her like an old friend - she almost felt at peace. Winter nights always hit different, looked different than any other night. She hated them. Hated how it reflected perfectly the way she felt inside. Cold. Hollow. Depressive, much, she thought while scoffing at herself. A faint rustle - a flame in the darkness - forced her to open her eyes. The lion was shuddering next to her, a sight that would have made her at least smile if she wasn't in such a mood. A tear rolled down her cheek. Surprised, she wiped if off with her left thumb - another rolled down. Swiftly turning around, she tried to stop the invasive flow of a sea of stars her cries. Incomprehensible, even to herself. "Sorry," she whispered, rubbing her sore eyes, her cold finger strangely appeasing. "I don't know what's happening." She didn't felt sad - or at least not the type that induced such kind of tears. More... tired. Exhausted. Broken. |
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☆☆☆
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| ❝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤, 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥.❞ ☘︎ STAFF ACCOUNT ; ᴍᴀʟᴀɪᴋᴀ ᴏᴍᴇɴᴜᴋᴏ |