goodlovedā :Ā Ā ššššš.
honeyās face glows with melancholy while the tension grows solid between them, something tangible. the shift in his intonation, evident weariness, outright admittance that somethings wrongĀ here. itās enough to give her whiplash from the daunting ( and somehow exponentially preferable ) silence theyād been slumped in mere moments ago. sheās taken to blame herself less, or at least would rather internalize the mountains of self loathing than to dribble them in puddles at charlesā feet. even if sheās ridiculing herself for things out of her control. she canāt remember the last time sheād allowed herself to so much as shed a tear in front of him and maybe that in itself is a form of neglect to their relationship. it wouldnāt be so far fetched if sheād sabotaged it all āā set herself to fail in this for some sort of self fulfilling prophecy that sheās not enough. she offers up nothing but a tired sigh for the few seconds that follow, adjusting in her seat in awkward discomfort. thinking it might be nice if he could be just a nudge closer because even them not being skin to skin is wildly uncharacteristic.
ā are you waiting for me to throw in the towel? āĀ a plain-spoken quip enters the uncomfortable fog they sit between before she can bite it back. itās said in a tone dipped in playful tease. thereās the ghost of a giggle that dots her iās and crosses her tās, offers up some ease to its bluntĀ roughness because it wouldnāt be her if anything but soft. itās a challenge, an honest wondering that nearly triggers the nausea in the pool of her belly to shoot up her neck and spill out in chunks all over the dining table. thereās a glint that decorates irises now, a tilt of her head that invites a fresher breath of air into her lungs.Ā ā iād do it if it made it easier.Ā ā there isnāt an inch of her thatās prepared to give up,Ā but it less and less matters what she wants. sheās coming to resolve that there might be too little time to put him second anymore, whether or not it leaves her feeling empty and unwanted.
the smile that taunts along his lips is nothing short of melancholic,Ā almost accepting of the chasm that had split through their once solid foundation. his first reactionās to roll his eyes, tip his head back by the neck to act out the sigh that hollows out his lungsĀ Ā āāĀ but his body keeps still,Ā bones and muscles alike still clinging onto the hope that this wonāt completely fade away.Ā neglecting impulse hadnāt ever been his strongest suit,Ā and maybe the only positive of this torrential downpour of unspoken disdain has made it so charles has no choice but to thinkĀ before his actions.Ā Ā ā if i somehow implied i wanted that,Ā i didnāt mean to. āĀ losing her was the last thing he wanted,Ā even before the shambles.Ā before the millisecond of hesitance to tuck himself beneath the same comforter,Ā before the ominous countdown of an inevitable end had set onto his shoulders like dumbbells.Ā there had been a point where he couldnāt be in the same room as her without crowding her space,Ā hands all but glued onto any part of her that fingers could hold on to for the simple pleasure of warming fingertips against her skin.Ā
ā iām saying i want to try fixing whateverĀ ..Ā this is. āĀ heās only realized his line of vision had yet to shift from the edge of the table,Ā too concerned with keeping the flicker of candlelight in his peripheral to face whatever look might have settled into the fine lines of her features.Ā green irises serve his sorrow like dinner plates,Ā he knows,Ā a flaw that heās never quite admired.Ā the side of his thumb runs along the edge of the table as a lone fountain for tension to spout out of,Ā a loose distraction responsible for keeping any irregularities from his tone.Ā ā because iām tired of doing this thing,Ā of pretending that this is normal.Ā itās not supposed to be this exhausting. ā














