EMPATHIE MALADIVE

she replays the scene again and again in her head.

MAYBE SHE SHOULD HAVE BEGGED. turned around when it was still early, thrown away her pride and simply begged. selfishly enough, she thought that maybe that could have bought her more time. a few weeks. maybe even a day.

got her lesson, she guessed. the two hours and one minute of plain ride had gone, so did the commute back home; strelitzia had barely realized she arrived at her gym again, didn't register the time it took. didn't feel the day pass. she just knew she was there. barely felt the humid stench of her gym. strelitzia lays on the broken black couch she's been keeping there for years, and can barely hear her gym trainer; WE CAN TAKE OVER, YOU SHOULD TAKE A BREAK FOR A WHILE.

she doesn't realize, still, that she's gotten up. taken her jacket, and started walking home.

He doesn’t say it out loud the burden he carries. Go with the flow carries him far but there’s only so much water he can trek before he drowns in it. This is why the band wasnt envisioned as one carries all. He did not ask or WANT to be front runner. No one should carry the mission by themselves; it was everyone’s responsibility.

Or so he thought. Hope his blood was worth it.

But he endures. For them. Always will. Even when he’s furious deep down.

Now at least there’s a moment he can ease the weight of his head into her palm and relax the strain around his neck muscles that clenched his jaw far too tight under her touch. This feels selfish. All this thought on himself over being a little tired and annoyed at his friends… The whole ‘dead’ thing too. So instead-

“ …what do you want? ”

❝ i want you to RELAX. ❞ her tone stays unchanged, unbothered; strelitzia blinks slowly, watches as be breathes deep, each exhale sounding more like a SIGH. charlie's skin glistens under the neon glows above them, and strelitzia can't help but find him beautiful, can't help but understand HOW COULD SUCH A MAN MOVE MASSES. and yet, at the same time, she can't begin to understand HOW STRESSFUL that is.

with her, HE'S NEVER HAD TO ASK, never had to force it; SHE'S THERE EITHER WAY, had he liked it or not. even now, with him, she gives without having to be convinced. ❝ YOU CAN BE SELFISH. ❞ god knows he deserves to, even if just for one night. even if it's just for one night ... right now, she feels like she could give all she has to him.

Looking rather close, wasnt she? Wonder how badly he looked then…but better was the attention he was getting despite Charlie’s initial hand waving away. Maybe he’d have rested a little heavily on her fingertips when she continued to pry for injuries.

He thinks…he really misses touch and closeness. Everyday before was hair ruffling, shoulder slapping, someone leaning on and over him to see what song he was writing or even the passive handshake was common. Only touch he gets is a crack in the face or otherwise.

…He’s put a lot of distance between him and people now. Especially his bandmates. There’s just this crack of anger that doesn’t go away and he’s too occupied to meditate on it. Self defeating maybe — he doesn’t do the whole Lone Wolf thing. Toxic behavior; and even if they wanted to help they can’t because of some odd clause in this “death contract” keeping them here. Vice only had a sheepish ‘I think the ‘everyone being here and STAYING here to have your reunion concert’ is taken very literally, Charlie. Yeesh-lawyers. Am I right?.’

Ah…she stopped. He hardly blinks.

“ …I don’t know. ” Truthfully. But- “ …You dont have to stop. ”

AH.

the vocalist's eyes narrow; while her thumb had rested just under his lower lip, she had felt it: A BREATH, HEAVY, like a dying sigh. past closed lips, she bites her own when she sees his eyes waver. she can't deny it: she likes the way he looks at her. likes to have his eyes on her.

❝ aw, charlie ... ❞ her hand is back on his face, holding his cheek with a tenderness she rarely shows. MAYBE IT'S PITY, MAYBE IT'S MORE. a kinship of sorts, she had been alone for so long. and it's nice, IT'S SO NICE TO BE NEEDED, MAYBE EVEN WANTED.

❝ it's been hard, hasn't it ? ❞ a second hand joins in, fingers tracing his neck. maybe this was a mistake, or maybe it meant nothing alone. but the way she talks to him, the way she touches him make it seem like EVERYTHING. in such a dirty, unromantic setting, she manages to make it loving, somehow. strelitzia's cheeks flush, her assured moves hiding some shyness underneath. her thumb caresses his cheek, while the rest of her nails rest against his scalp.