ALL ROADS LEAD BACK HOME.

@croweswings​​  sent:   “ oh my god, i’m way too stoned for this ” The Texas Chainsaw Massacre  -  sentence starters. who?   martin  to  georgie.

Georgie giggles right at him.   “You sure that’s the grass’ fault?”

“You’re doin’ just fine, relax, Marty.  My momma always used to say:  fight fire with fire and you’ll burn your way through t’ the other side.”   A bad influence!   “But… I don’t know if this is ‘xactly what she meant by that.”   Georgie peers in deceptive concentration down at the joint in hand,  considering its metaphysical properties for only a brief few moments before offering it back to Martin with a lazy smile;   peering encouragingly at him through the haze of smoke.

      with  ten  minutes  before  they  have  to  be  on  set,  martin  calculates  that  it’s  just  enough  time  for  him  and  his  newly  selected  companion  to  share  a  joint  out  back  under  guise  of  a  “cigarette  break”.  by  now,  everyone  expected  that  the  times  martin  excused  himself  in  such  a  manner,  he’d  likely  return  high  out  of  his  mind  on  some  variety  of  substances.  he’s  staring  out  with  something  between  paranoia  and  absence;  even  if  it’s  just  a  bit  of  hash,  it’s  strong  –  one  of  his  dealer’s  mystery  hybrids,  and  martin  regrets  not  asking  about  its  effects.  

    there was something so unbelievably tender about him , something that had taken herself so long to see — so used to thinking him atlas , invincible , and she’d never quite seen the cracks , the spots where he needed to be held in spite of all his running towards emergency . so fragile it pulled at her stomach , moved her so intensely she was sure one day she’d lock him inside her house just to make sure he’d be safe . such a curious little paradox : how he’d fished her out of the water years before , and now it was her holding on to him so desperately each time the weight on his shoulder got too heavy . thumb absent - mindedly drawing circles along his cheek , she leaned in closer , hovering above his head with a strand of hair falling like curtains , hiding them both from the privacy of their own home . the moment was warm , flowing through her like honey — as the distant ticking of a clock was the only memory of time , morgan was achingly aware that this … she’d already gotten used to this peace . 

     “ you know you’re not supposed to be carrying the world , right ? ” , a soft curve of her lips , like brushstroke of pale red — hand moved back from his cheek to his hair , stroking slowly the way she would to a child , the way she knew she adored when he did it to her . slowly , as if coaxing him to sleep : wanting so badly to give him nothing but rest , and nourishment , and the devoted care of someone who set her own world on fire and is now far too aware of the fragility of things . “ and you’d hate it if we ran away ” . her grin bloomed wider now , teasing . “ you’d find something to worry about not even one mile away from home . but babe , you can’t be invincible . you gotta lose sometimes , too — it’s why i’m here , you know ? ” 

      sometimes,  these  moments  felt  like  poetry.  his  life  was  otherwise  a  stressful  tale  with  plot  crescendoes  and  plunges,  constantly  getting  his  head  dunked  under  before  he  could  get  a  lungful  of  air  –  but  this,  it  was  serenity.  it  rendered  him  still  with  the  same  meditative  sensation  that  filled  him  while  sitting  alone  by  a  glittering  creekside.  as  if  the  tension  had  risen  off  of  him,  scott  sunk  further  against  her  and  closed  his  eyes  to  revel  in  her  presence,  soothed  by  her  light  touch  and  gently  radiating  warmth.  she  smelled  like  home.  his  voice  seemed  detectably  relaxed,  lower  in  an  eased  throat.  ❛❛  mm...  i  know.  but  i  need  reminding  sometimes.  ❜❜