crawl away from good

“oh stop.” clifden let out a small laugh and shook her head. “you really think i would have left you hanging without a suit?” a small relief washed over her, figuring that his answer meant he would go with her. “honestly, i bet my dad would love you even more if you showed up in a t-shirt and ripped jeans.”

            “oh!" he says, lips parting as a bright smile grows on his face. "well, i had no idea you kept all of my measurements in your house, but it's good to know you've got me covered," he jokes, winking at her before standing up. "so - show me the suit! i'm ready to get all dolled up and be your arm candy."

“we promised each other” the girl looked at them with big eyes, trying to guilt them into going. “we said, any events that come up we’d be each other’s date. we already know our parents approve, hell my dad is ready to adopt you and sell me on the black market. c’mon, please? it’s one charity gala. please?”

            “i know, i know!" skyler says, rubbing the back of his neck. she's right, they did promise each other - for any event; a wedding, a charity ball, whatever - that they would be each other's dates. "i'm glad your dad likes me, but i work for seven dollars an hour. i don't have a suit. i don't have anything nice to wear."

          finally, when everything’s dark and she’s all alone, she feels at peace. or as close to peace that she could feel being stuck in the cage that can be viewed from most angles. it’s this time when she over indulges. fingers sticky with mango, as she shoves pieces of fruit down her throat. when she hears movement on the other side of the door, she begins to shift. confusion sits in her and she’s on high alert. it’s the guy, from earlier and she watches him carefully. when he mentions the idea of leaving, her interest lights up. “what?” she pauses. “—you are?”

            "yes." he kneels in front of her cage, hands resting on his thighs as he looks at her. his eyes shift just in the way he had done before; from their human blue hue to gleaming flames of blood-drinking gold. "remember me?" he says with a smile. he holds up the ring of keys he'd taken from the guards. "do you know which one of these opens your cage? or do we have to try them all?" 

but she doesn’t say a word. never does behind the glass. it’s the only power she has left. most people think she can not speak or can not hear them. but none of her senses are clipped. the tips of her hair wave with a flame of their own when she sees his, though. it’s brief and people around gasp and take pictures. it’s rare for her to be with fire now. that isn’t ( usually ) by choice. but she still stays silent. 

            lucien has never been inside a zoo before. he cares to stay away from things that may permanently odorize his clothing, but this is more important than his dior boots. he feels his heart beat pounding in his ears as he approaches the door to the exhibit the nameless girl had been kept in. once unlocked, he steps slowly inside. now they are both trapped behind the glass. both non-human, both imprisoned. his heart hurts. "hello," he says, approaching her cage, "i'm here to help you escape."

               "get up!” he snapped, as he was prone to do, always yelling and bossing people around like he was the queen of england. ivan got to his feet, quickly switching the tv off and plugging the auxiliary cord in. the music wafted, and though he knocked one of the empty bottles onto the table, he was trying to drag kurt off the couch. “get up, you oaf– stop being sad, there’s no time for it right now.”                                                          ( @esxterics )

           "fuuuck," kurt growled, face buried into the plush cushions of the couch. he was incredibly wasted. "why can't you just let me be miserable?" he wanted to lay down and die (as usual), but when the music began to play, his spirits lifted. those two bottles of whiskey allowed his body to go weightless, and with the slightest pull from ivan, kurt tumbled onto the floor. "ow." 

            her stare is intense, prolonged, and unbudging. it’s the most intimacy to be had when there’s glass in-between, but arguing more intimate then most touches exchanged between passing couples. if she could grab them, catch them, catch anyone just maybe they could feel for her. understand her even. she sees the way people look at her. awe struck, idle fascination. but one not dissimilar to looking at an artifact in a museum or an animal at the zoo. they look, they move on. and she’s just stuck on display, clad in a skimpy outside, wings of gold to be fully seen, and little to her own in her small cage. but this one, this person, she’s seen them twice tonight, and they’ve stayed longer then anyone ever has. she puts her hand up to the glass.

           initially, she reminded him of an ancient roman artwork. he asked himself: is she a soft, angelic fury? or the crude work of a demented scientist? is she a remnant of the past, or a piece of the future? he regarded her as art when he first saw her, and went on his way. but he had to come back. there was more to know.            as the grotesque beauty presses her hand to the glass, lucien tilts his head to the side. he stares a bit longer, lips parted slightly as he studies the gold fibers of her wings and the mournful look on her face. she did not belong there. he meets her hand and mouths to her "i will not hurt you." lucien keeps his blue eyes on hers. "i am not like them." he mouths again before shutting his eyes. when he reopens them, his irises have melted into a flaming, gold-flecked red. "i want to help".