iv. REVOIDE ✩ ⋆ ❬ charlotte olesen ❭
vulnerability incites sadism. a idea, a single idea, yet it sparked like flint, a new glint in her eye. you’ve turned your back against the unknown, did you think this through, did you think this wise? there was more to language than chosen ( or absent ) words ; the twist and curl of the tongue, the bend of the neck as the head canted, the haughty slant of the shoulders. just because you can’t see me, michael, doesn’t mean i can’t see you. charlotte crushed her hand into a fist and disturbed the peace, empty plastic crumpling like thunder against the backdrop of sunshine - soaked silence. wherever she stood, the ground felt wrong. she didn’t belong, she wasn’t quite right. not a crime, no. but never right either.
her mouth curled into a sneer, tongue poking the tip of her left canine, acid dribbling down her throat. “ uh - huh. okay. well. ” the plastic bottle was exchanged for cooler shades, deftly placed over her eyes, nearly sliding down her nose from the perspiration. “ obviously, i’m not a dream. you might wish that i was, but i’m not. none of this is, sadly. if you keep following me, then sooner or later you’re gonna step in a real goddamn mess, you understand? ”
charlotte stepped behind the large tree - trunk and stuck her head out at an angle, twin black - holes regarding michael. “ still wanna follow? you still wanna know? ”
⋆ * —– A REAL GODDAMN MESS . little does she know that the boy is knee - deep in a morass of a sordid reality. ‘hind him lies a narrow, meandering path, plagued by beasts and nightmares, and he anticipates that the same awaits him in the near - future. tongue sticks to the roof his his mouth. the sound of the water bottle grates his ears, crouched form recoils at the sound. ❝ —– NO. ❞ it’s in that moment that our hero decides that charlotte is not to be trusted. her enigmatic nature is enough reason, though it takes much too little to get ‘neath the skin. his taunts had been tame, the slightest of words flung her way. her frustration has matter, coming off of her in thick waves. it unsettles his stomach.
the the twig is cast aside and the paladin bathes his hands in the coolness of the water. he stares down through thick lashes, mouth twisted. he washes remnants of earth from his palms, and then tends to the dirt embedded ‘neath his fingernails. ❝ obviously, i’m right about something —– you might wish that i wasn’t, but i am. and i already know that you understand. ❞ he cups his palms together and brings water to his face, water runs down his cheeks, drips from his jaw, down the front of his shirt, blends with the mesh of sweat.
❝ ... you’re a shitty listener, you know that ? i never called you a dream, you know that ? i said that i thought what happened could’ve been a dream —– ❞ cupped hands are plunged into the water again. ❝ don’t know where you get off asking me do i understand —– who do you think you are ? my mom ? ❞ michael brings them to a parched mouth and drinks deeply, soothing the sandpaper feeling in his throat. ❝ … —– EAT MY SHORTS . ❞