MOODBOARD II (Reyna)

“Tighter, Reyna,” her voice is desperate, hands shaking as she presses over her sister’s. “Tighter, okay?”

Their home sits on the busiest street of town, their front yard more like a patch of a grass. Darcy insists on kicking a ball around it anyway, and their parents aren’t home to forbid it. She tries out the tricks she watched the older girls do on the field during recess, but she keeps tripping. Her big sister’s eyes are on her, she can feel them and she wants to make her proud. 

Her breath feels short but it’s nothing compared to the gasps escaping Reyna’s mouth. “It’s okay, just put pressure… Just please, God…” Blood soaks between her fingers, making her gag at not just the sight but the warmth of it. The smell. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Reyna, come on you need to-”

His tires screech as he pulls into the driveway, Reyna’s glass knocking onto the patio and lemonade spilling off into the flowerbed. She’s stood up so fast you’d think someone had yanked her out of her seat. Darcy grabs her ball, unsure of what to do with it. It was too late to hide it, too late to pretend she’d only been fetching the mail or anything else that wasn’t playing where she wasn’t allowed to. 

“This is my fault,” she cries, leaning forward so their foreheads touch. The scent of copper is overwhelming but it wouldn’t stop her from pressing as close to Reyna as she could without hurting her. “This is all my fault, oh God…” Had she refused to hide in the shadow of the trees Reyna had pushed her into when her father’s car came to a screeching halt behind them, maybe she could have protected her. Or at the very least agreed to leave with him, keep him from getting angry enough to… Her fingers graze the hole in Reyna’s abdomen, press impossibly tighter. 

The yelling makes her nearly wet her pants. Darcy quivers by the front door as her father drags Reyna across the living room by her hair. He’s thrown her on the couch, towering over her. “Are you a fucking idiot!” he shouts down at her, fists balled and ready to rain down on her if she dared answer. “You could have gotten her hit! Should have known better than to leave her alone with you, stupid fucking-” Darcy imagines she throws the ball square at his head, hard enough to break it. Hard enough to erase him from existence. But instead she stays silent. 

She watches.

Pizza and wine. It was all they could really afford, and of course only the cheap box wine that kind of tasted like fruit juice with a kick. Ophelia loved every second of their date, she wasn’t a hard girl to please. She’d grown up without much to call her own, and to her pizza was a splurge. 

Isla snored across the room which was only lit by the laptop screen where they have a shitty movie on Netflix paused. Their breath warm between them, Ophelia’s head turned down so she can lean her forehead against Reyna’s. There’s no music of course, but they don’t need any. She’s too busy getting lost in her girlfriend’s presence, in knowing that she’s safe and sound. Home. 

aesthetic board. reyna miles & ophelia ward.

Send me a "♦" for the first word my muse thinks of when your muse is mentioned.

Klara

“Careful.”

Reyna