☁ . « heart on fire »

The sun does not know the scene it caresses with a gentle warmth- a town fraying at the edges where paint chips from buildings, and passing cars kick gravel to the sidewalk. Cigarette butts flung from windows, embers sparking as they hit the ground before turning to ash quicker than one could blink. Such fleeting beauty. It was always the ugliness that stayed behind. Lingering. 

Someone walks down the street. His stature a little too tall for his build, his cheeks a little too flushed, his steps a little too heavy to be considered peaceful on the sidewalk. But he holds onto something- a moment. That ever present fleeting beauty, seems to stain their smile with something delightful. And everything that seemed dull, would ignite the moment they spotted a familiar face sitting in the laundromat. Rapping knuckles against the window, face pressed against the glass.

“ Were you planning on hiding in humidity all day? ” There’s an attempt at something jovial in their tone, but through the heaviness of it all Val fears it didn’t seep all the way through. “ I can’t think of much worse than being alone, not right now at least. ”

                                                        ·  * .

           ❝  𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐘 ,  it smells good in there .  i’m easy to please ,  ❞  the answer comes easy ,  like most things do when val is near .  dolly notices the difference in their tone ,  but it doesn’t scare her away  ---  oh ,  he could  never  scare her .  she knew that his heart was like cotton candy  &  sugar cubes ,  sweetness given form ,  that sweetness hid behind every breath ,  every pause between words .  they didn’t need to make it any clearer to her .

          it isn’t comfort  &  safety that they bring ,  but warmth .  warmth that rivaled the freezing cold of her home ,  enough to make you want to bury yourself in a pile of blankets ,  never to face the world again .  if there was anyone among them ,  the lovers ,  who had been blessed by the sun ,  touched by it’s warm embrace at birth ,  it was val .  she was but a flower ,  one that basket in his warm ,  unsure of how to give back .  i’m sorry if i took too much ,  &  i’m sorry if i still do .

          a sigh prefaces her next words ,  a hand ,  the one that holds her inhaler ever so tightly , shoved in the pockets of her cardigan .  ❝  you’re right .  usually i wouldn’t be out at this hour ,  but my boss decided to give me a vacation .  ❞  well ,  that was  one way  to put it .  ❝  no fucking way i’m staying in bed all day ,  though .  don’t want mom thinking i have the  flu  or something .  ❞  looking up at the tall figure ,  dolly raised her brows lightly ,  uncertainty evident in her gaze .  ❝  i know it’s weird to ask how you’re feeling ,  but ...  ❞

                                                             …

                 He shrugs the silence away, shoulder blades rounding like an apostrophe. Dominic’s laughter comes to mirror hers, a clash of clarity in the empty diner. But it’s steadier, louder ; buffering out the hesitation, the melancholy, the vein of apology enmeshed inside Grazer’s. It’s odd, it strikes him — the one person that didn’t need to be sorry, the one person whose silence he’d never hold against them. Not because he understood, but because he didn’t. Because the domain of her mind, her fears, was not his to stake a claim to. Parrish had no right to ask her to be someone else for his comfort; because she was not in the habit of changing hearts, was she? Not in the habit of trading masks & selfhood as the story fit.

                 Eli, Sasha, fucking Alicia: that was different. Those people were born in the orchestra pit of their grand, bloodied stage. A violin arc and a guillotine curtain. From them, Dominic did demand; Dominic did call for knowledge, for reciprocity, for pound of flesh. Why? Because God knows they demanded everything from the world around them. They were born for it.

                Parrish threads his fingers through hers. Gives her hand a squeeze, don’t mention it nod. “You’d never be a bother, dolly. Ack, you know me, I’m such a pastel stationary guy.” His glance cuts away at the mention of Moscow. A quick tension on his grimace, crow’s feet tightening, and then he has to gather all the air in the room just to breath himself quiet. The mere thought of it ( Christ, this fucking internship, the stupid farce of it, the bureaucratic rigmarole ) pulls at the frays of his nerves. It rings through him like a bell; a deep-seated regret, a battle gong. “Sure. Moscow it is. I’ll hold you to your word, babe.”

               He backs away to the fake leather benches, throws himself down. Wiggles in the booth to give her space, should she want to join next to him. Leans one cheek on his palm, tone dipping into a conspiratorial whisper, and begins the tally of questions he’d chewed on all the way to Finch: “Now. Must’ve been something I missed around here, one way or another, and I count on you, Graze, to bring me up to speed. Have the lovers been in town long?”

                                                         ·  * .

          𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒  a feeling of comfort ,  certainty ,  disguised bravery even .  the familiarity of knowing dominic was way above her in so many aspects ,  yet it never made her feel intimidated .  a true leader ,  the brave knight who leads an entire army behind him ,  the one who hoists the flag he’s sworn to defend ...  or perhaps that’s what he tried to convey .  either way ,  it worked .  dolly never questioned it ,  &  she never would .  not because she lacked the curiosity to see what sort of wonderful mysteries filled his brain ,  but out of respect for the guy she believed in .  one that ,  all things considered ,  might be their one shot out of this nightmare .

         it’s sickening ,  really ,  the way she counts on him .  she doesn’t demand it  ---  after all ,  it’s not in her place to ,  nor would she ever ask more of someone than what they were willing to give ,  but still .  if not him ,  whom ?  ❝  i’ll make it up to you ,  then .  i’ll be sure to send you plenty of letters ,  so many that you’ll have my handwriting down perfectly ,  ❞  melodious laughter escapes her lips ,  fingers allowing his to thread through her own .  it doesn’t frighten her ,  for it’s familiar .  it’s dom .  it’s safe .

         regardless ,  it is the form with which he pulls back ,  the way his crows feet tighten  &  lungs fill with air that tells her something is not quite what it seems .  brows furrow together lightly ,  as if concentrating on a puzzle ,  dozens of pieces  scattered  right in front of her with no manual ,  no nothing .  she’ll have to ask about it later ,  about  moscow ,  about what he wants .  as if grazer knew anything about following one’s wants .  for now ,  she decides to simply stand from her spot  &  wiggle her way beside him on the opposite booth ,  rosy lips curling into a delicate ,  barely visible smile as she does so .

         perhaps the fragility of the smile is what causes it to falter a bit when he asks about  the lovers ,  about what he’s missed .  yet she ,  reliable as always ,  holds no hesitation to answer dominic’s inquiry .  ❝  some have .  it’s been way over a year since sasha came back ,  &  val never left .  as for me ,  i’ve been coming back every summer since freshman year ,  ❞  the brunette purses her lips before both index finger  &  thumb reach for the straw in the milkshake they seemed to have forgotten about ,  slowly starting to swirl it around in circles .  a distraction of sorts as a heavy sigh falls from her mouth .   ❝  i haven’t seen eli yet ,  but he’s probably on his way here  ---  unless he managed to get into a fucking  fist fight  somwehere ,  ❞  she rolls her eyes .  ❝  &  tommy ...  well ,  she gave me the news ,  but that’s all .  i wish i could be there for her ,  but i wouldn’t know what to say ,  ❞  a shrug ,  face turning to look at the man .  ❝  how do you feel ?  you know ,  with all of this ?  ❞

                                                           ·  * .

he hold dead things in his chest. open casket ; eulogy printed. stitched grief onto heart shaped jumpers, the remainder tugged into dimpled grins. everyone harbors something. he holds his mother in cratered wounds, twilight skies and self forced solitude. those memories pressed into a room he is always in, time stamped into pent up bitterness. he plays them on repeat, fingertips curled into unkept tresses, - and he notices that despite moments of unbridled joy ; he has always been sad. like it’s been hooked into his lungs, or burned into his skull. that sadness has always remained, despite his constant shedding of facades. 

 “ have you met yourself ? ” an ease slips from open mouthed petals, hands wrapped around her waist - he draws her close. wavering slightly beneath her scent that threatens his unraveling. it’s a sense of home that climbs in the back of his throat, sun soaked & warm. he wants to tuck it beneath the utter loneliness he had felt without her, that cold void hammering a familiar heartbeat. “ i don’t want to meet anywhere else, i wanted to come here. ” & it’s so rare and raw, it feels like digging sodden fingers into wounds. “ how are you feeling?”

                                                           ·  * .

         ❝  𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍'𝐓 ,  ❞   the answer to his mock - inquiry comes easy ,  masked with a chuckle ,  almost as though she’s thought about it multiple times before .  maybe she did .  there was no one who harbored  awful feelings  towards the girl more than herself ,  but that shouldn’t come as a surprise .  alicia knew that ,  she’d known it from the day they met .  perhaps that’s what made  ‘ dolly ’  so much more likable ;  a product of someone else’s imagination ,  a girl with friends who finally belonged somewhere ,  a new home to run to when things got bad  ---  at least until now .

        i don’t want to meet anywhere else ,  i wanted to come here .  it occurs to her then that maybe elías needed this ;  the familiarity of sneaking into her room late at night ,  the silly banter about how he’d fuck her mom ,  all of it .  perhaps he’s clinging to every last shred of familiarity he can find ,  &  grazer understands that .  it’s all she can bring herself to do lately .  when he asks how she’s feeling ,  the brunette pulls back a bit from the hug ,  not quite breaking it yet needing room for herself .  room to gather her thoughts ,  to breathe .  ❝  i’m good ,  yeah ,  why would’t i be ?  ❞  dolly forces a chuckle past rosy lips ,  though it comes out empty ,  lifeless .  don’t cry ,  don’t you fucking cry .  for a brief moment ,  her gaze drifts downwards as eyes begin to water .  fuck .   ❝  ... i feel rather shit ,  eli .  ❞  a pause ,  lips pursed together in thought ,  ❝  you know what i did when tommy called ?  i passed out .  i was at the hospital ,  right in the middle of my shift ,  &  i passed the fuck out .  it’s been hell ever since .  you ?  ❞

                                                               TO: GrazeR🥰✨ [ 18:02 ] whatever. [ 18:03 ] everything’s a choice, graze. [ 18:09 ] no idea what you’re talking about… thanks ?

                                                      TO ♡  🐶  - row

                                                   TO: GrazeR🥰✨ [ 17:13 ] ‘let you’ go to uni [ 17:15 ] i will never understand… whatever it is you’ve got going on with that woman [ 17:22 ] it’s tbd, man. tee bee fuckin dee.

                                                       TO ♡  🐶  - row

“ who said i wanted to hug you ? you’re probably carrying way more cooties then me. ” & a sound breaks from his lips that sounds contorted and clogged in the back of his windpipe. he heaves at star speckled vision, the nostalgia that drowns him. those pieces of each other that hold a memorial in his chest. he cannot pinpoint when he had first stepped muddied feet into her room. only that warmth that had bruised winter bitten cheeks in the past. it’s different in summer. they’re undressed by sticky heat & exposed. the barrens was their usual haven, & he dreamed of senior year. half sunken frames, curling dirt and grass between fingernails. a haze of delusion that would settle among them. sometimes alicia would be there, other times not. most of the time, it would be their wingless skeletons pooled into the middle of the hideout. it hurts. he wants to say. carrying the dead parts of them in his chest.

“ this was from the other day. ” & he is bashful, blushed stained features spread, - head lolling. “ i haven’t changed yet. ” he loops hands at the hem of his shirt, tugging it off until it drops on the floor. “ happy ? now can i get my hug, wheezy ? ”

                                                            ·  * .

          ❝  𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓-  𝐖𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖  that is not true !  ❞  not only because it was a joke ,  but because it was simply impossible .  grazer was the isolated ,  touch starved yet touch repulsed girl ,  the one who shuddered at the thought of physical contact with anyone  ---  except for the lovers .  perhaps it was because they knew to be careful with her  ( or at least were willing to do so ) ,  but it was easier with them .  hugs weren’t as demanding ,  they were comforting instead .  she remembers them ,  laying on the hideout’s floor ,  thinking about nothing  &  everything all at once .  she remembers it all like it was yesterday ;  the laughs ,  the gentle touches ,  the silly jokes ...  &  when loomis enters the room ,  they all come washing over her at once .  it’s overwhelming ,  but it’s warm .  it’s too much ,  yet not much at all .

           brows furrow at his answer ,  ❝  the other day ?  just when was the last time you showered ?  what happened that day ?!  ❞  she’s bombarding questions at him again ,  which wouldn’t be unusual for dolores .  always going on  &  on about something ,  because keeping it in sucks .  hurts .  kills her ,  little by little .  ❝  how are you so comfortable with--  ❞  eyes open wide as she hears the shirt meet the floor .  great ,  now chances are her carpet will smell like shit too ,  but when he asks for the hug ...  how could she ever say no ?  

          small steps become larger as grazer closes the distance between them ,  barely hesitating before arms wrap around the tall frame ,  welcoming him into a hug .  i missed you ,  dummy .  ❝  you’re  incorrigible ,  you know that ?  ❞  a pause ,  ❝  you should have told me you were coming ,  we could’ve meet up somewhere .  ❞

                                                              …

                     He can recall snippets from their talks, unrolling like crumpled notes in a bottle; like mayday messages that don’t come through quite right. For instance, the touching part—Dom remembers that. It’s always been an entire steeplechase with Dolly, a slalom between the right proximity and the wrong one, diverted between too much and not enough. Affection went about different, with her, than it did for other people; than it did everywhere around them.

                 ( Which is not to say it wasn’t normal, because, fuck, what even was? What’s ever been, among the lovers club? When Alicia would waste away without, like, twelve damn hours in the spotlight, adulation all around the clock—when Sasha couldn’t sit still for one single lecture, fingers twitching like lighthouse signals? When Loomis was smoked out half the time, and Val shouldered everyone’s pain without looking at it twice; without looking ahead, or behind, just taking & taking with clenched fists. When Parrish himself drifted from any conversation ten times per minute; conjured devils, and mysteries, and grand designs, all because it was too harrowing, God, too fucking devastating, to be in this place. To be at all. So, yeah, no. They don’t get to complain. They don’t get to single anyone of them out: especially not Grazer. )

                   Across the years, Dominic had to dole out this intensity in careful bits, like cutting something down for portion. A shoulder grab, a hand under the collar; a shared apple, clean army knife through the core. He had to probe, tentatively, around the bruised alleyway of her fears. The displays typical for the rest of the lovers, limbs & breaths & curls intermingling, were not the go-to with Dolly. Not easily borne. It made Parrish himself realize it was quite an effort, wasn’t it? Being touched, being held in the scope. It always had been for him too. He’d just taken it… for granted, sort of—assumed this, too, would just come harder for him, the way so many things just did. Inexplicable and veiled.

                    Which means that, now, after he pulls her closer, after he lays a kiss on the top of her head, he chuckles through an apology. Breathy, and honest, and half-drowned in her hair. “ ‘m sorry. Kind of, just, sprung this up on you, didn’t I? I missed you, is all.” A pause, stilling a bit at the mention of his… home, he supposes. Former home? Alma mater, whatever the fuck.

                     “Canada is… well, it’s a whole thing. You should’ve visited, Graze.” I should’ve insisted, he doesn’t add, but it laces his tone anyway, leaves it all in knots. I should’ve, but, see, that didn’t go over so well, with the others. Burnt once, twice shy, hm? He rounds up one shoulder, gentle, so that it won’t disturb her cheek on his chest. “Might not see Canada again, in fact, for a while. It’s supposed to be Moscow after this summer—after, you know, whatever we find here. Don’t even ask why I chose it, of all places.”

                                                          ·  * .

        ❝  𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐙𝐄 ,  ❞  words come out muffled as she allows herself ,  for once ,  so simply accept the hug .  to take it for what it is ,  instead of listening to the voice in the back of her head ,  the one who tells her that this is too much ,  that it’s gross ,  disgusting .  it’s not too much ,  it’s fine .  you need it .  maybe so does he .  as the hug lingers ,  the brunette allows a small sigh to escape .  is this what relief feels like ?  

        ❝  i missed you ,  too ,  ❞  an irrefutable truth ,  dancing on half - curled lips .  ❝  i thought about writing a proper letter ,  the kind with pretty stationary ,  but i didn’t want to be a bother ,  ❞  &  she couldn’t bear the possibility of being just another piece of paper in some drawer .  not that the lovers would ever treat her as such ;  to them ,  she was human .  just as human as any of them ,  with the same needs ,  the same fears  ( plus a couple of others that they had learned to accept ) .  even so ,  perhaps it was just one of her many habits .  

         for someone who boasted about being healthy  &  taking care of her body ,  a temple ,  grazer might as well have been the walking advertisement for what not to do to yourself .  if not on a physical level ,  then perhaps a mental one .   don’t write ,  they won’t respond .  you’ll just be giving yourself something else to stress about .  if it’s actually important ,  text them .  that’s enough ,  isn’t it ?  is it even okay to text them ?

        would they even like you if it wasn’t for alicia ?

        head nods at the mention of a visit that didn’t happen ,  gaze lifting as the hug comes to an end ,  an apologetic look in doe eyes .  ❝  i know ,  i’m sorry  ---  you know how my mom is .  ❞  how embarrassing .  she could feel sasha rolling his eyes at her ,  or alicia’s disapproving stare .  i’m trying ,  i really am !  ❝  plus ,  i have a job here at the hospital ,  so ...  i can’t just pack up  &  go .  ❞  his comment about the russian capital steals a small laugh from her lips ,  ❝  maybe  moscow ,  then ?  ❞  dolly suggests ,  though it’s more like a promise she’ll make extra effort to keep .  

        ❝  it must be a pain . i mean ,  ❞  brows furrow together for a moment .  words are a struggle ,  aren’t they ?  breathe .  ❝  you made all these plans ,  have all these  exciting things  to come ,  to look forward to ,  &  now ...  ❞  she doesn’t finish it ,  can’t finish it .  embarrassment covers dolores’s face .  fuck .