it is Long

prOBABLY SCA RLET she is my Child i love her So Much

she started off as a giggly “schoolgirl” with her tagalong quiet “mysterious” childhood friend Eruon who secretly loves her, wore the same sweater all the time & had No Problems Whatsoever, very boring with no hobbies

now she is reserved, working on being a better person & managing her mental illnesses / disorders, plays guitar but sings so badly her housemates kick her out, wears her boots for a reason, and is overall trying to be independent & is tryin to find balance in her lifeplus shes rlly panro holy heck 

     You didn't expect a mild fight to result in the decision to leave.  Standing next to him, tears kept coming, and you kept glancing over.  He was packing fervently, and without his sleeves you noticed just how much muscle he really had; fear kept your legs quivering, indecisive of moving or standing still.

     "Don't expect anything from me."  His voice was low and heavy.  You hadn't heard him ever so upset, at least not towards you.

     Your voice failed you again, resulting in the sound of clacking teeth as your jaw silently worked as if words were meant to come out.  None of this was pretty or graceful.  People in movies made it seem something to be desired, for the relief afterwards.  You didn't think relief was possible, now that he was leaving your life.  You'd have to carry the knowledge this was your fault.  You could have done better.  He shouldn't have overreacted.  He shouldn't have done a lot of things, and neither should you.

     Eggs should stay in frying pans, anyway.

     Your knees gave just as you reached the couch, in time to see his figure leave the room, and the door shut with a muffled click.  One of his shirts slipped from the bed, left behind in his rush.

     You'd have to return that, if you saw him again.

     Two weeks was too long, but it let the dust settle.  He told you to keep the shirt.

But not the same.

You’ve been here before.

—

       Your hands dragged across the rough surface of a building only beginning to weather from heavy rains, large in width and less in height.  Taller buildings loomed above in the idea you had found yourself amongst a foreign place.  You didn’t want foreignness at the moment, however. It wasn’t pleasing.

       He stood a ways away from you as your ever-numbed feet carried you, up to your legs and torso where your chest felt odd, along the perimeter of the embodiment of so many memories.  Part of you wanted your fists to turn into wrecking balls and tear the place down, but where to start you would never know.  Maybe leave the library you love untouched, the roof kept nicely, the surrounding rooms in crumbles; the doors left covered in rubble, and the single broken window cleared.  The rest of you wanted to envelope the building with your very being.

       Neither could happen, of course.  You settle for kneeling beneath a broken window.  Took long enough to get here, anyhow, of all places.  It’s hard to discern whether it is current emotions you’re feeling, or the things you felt in your past resurfacing, rearing their heads just below the surface of the water that is your ability to think clearly.  You can’t dig them up the way you could with dirt.  Water just takes its place again, and you’re left sinking a little lower to the ground in your efforts.

       He probably didn’t know what to say then.  That’s okay; neither did you.

       He had made his way to you.  Funny how thoughts and memories can take over your senses for a bit, huh?  Seemed like you were hearing them again.  Not the same way a voice rings in your ear, a slightly muffled version.  The way… well, the way a memory sounds when it’s clear.  When you’re lying in bed, drifting off, and it becomes real again.  

       That’s his hand on your shoulder, isn’t it?  You don’t need to check.  You take more note of his slowly callousing hands than your shoulders as they sink.

       “We should go.”  Your hands slipped a little further down the wall with his words, with a sigh, with tall grass grazing your wrists, fingers belonging to you refusing to go anywhere but the rugged stone underneath them.  To move your hands of your own accord didn’t feel right.  To do anything but letting them drift didn’t seem right.

       “Eruon.”

       A grunt.

       “Do you remember, the day I broke my foot jumping from a window?”  

       He gave a breathy laugh through his nose.  You felt his hand slide to rest at the middle of your back, a gentle motion.  “I could’ve died from shock.” His knees popped as he squatted beside you.

       A smile tugged at your cheeks, a slow spread.  “You?  I was the one injured, you jerk, I could have gone into shock and not even known.”

       “The one day you decided to not wear shoes…  Tsk, tsk, tsk, Scarlet,” he teased.

       You turned your head to grin at him.  Also to see where you were jokingly hitting his arm, that was important.  “Come on, it was a dare with the look you gave me!  I remember asking you, ‘should I do it? I can make it right?’ and there you stood, like ‘ohhh I bet you can’t make it’.”  Your hands made gestures as you spoke, a little less grand then when you were at the top of your game.

       “Me?” he says, eyebrows rising.  “I told you to?  I ‘on’t r’mber saying a word.”

       “Exactly, you had this smug look on your face!”  Your voice rose and fell with indignance, and you sat a bit straighter, only to lean towards him as you spoke again.  “You just shrugged and I swear you had a shitty grin on your face, the one time—“

       “It was not ‘one time’, miss you-need-to-smile-more,” he grumbled.  Aforesaid “shitty grin” made its appearance.

       “That!  That right there, you dork,” you yelled, plopping onto your rear and pointing an accusing finger at him.  

       “What, right where?”  His face went blank, the grin still showing at the edges of his lips.  His hand swatted at yours.

       “Right—oh man, I am not starting this Eruon.”  You laughed anyhow, pulled one knee up and rested your arm there.  Your other hand took to pulling at the grass by his feet.  “Bet you missed all this luscious beauty.”  You snorted, tickling the bottoms of his feet with a handful of the stuff.

       “You say that like I said it before.”

       “You have!”

       “Really, when.  When did I say—“

       “Don’t you remember, that time we were, uh… it was by that river.”  Snapping your fingers didn’t help your thought process by much, but it seemed to feel right.  “We were supposed to be planning how to blow the place up and Liam was trying to test if he could put out candles with his fingers?  Pearle told him he’d burn to a crisp?”

       “I remember her saying that, and the face Matsune made that I nearly shit myself laughing over, but I do not r’member sayin’ that.”

       “Oh yeah?  Really?  What face was she makin’?”  You grinned.  

       “Like this, like…”  He took a moment to gain the proper air of “are these people serious, I can’t believe this”, riddled with some sort of disdain and disbelief.  He looked silly.  At least he could still make those ridiculous faces you love.

       “I see, I see.”  A short silence after laughing together brought you to realize how much you were smiling.  You had forgotten the building beside you, for the most part.  Remembering it, you turned and surveyed it sideways, then bottom to top.

       Taking a breath, you sighed again.  A habit you had no luck breaking.  “I wanna wreck it.”

       “Inside or out?”

       “Both,” you mumble.  

       He stood, light popping sounds coming from his knees.  “Not today, Scarlet.”

       “I know.”  But it still felt like you could.

       Standing, you stretched your arms backwards and gave him a melancholy smile when your eyes met his.  He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you.  Standing on your tiptoes, you simpered and placed your chin on his head, avoiding his horn dangerously close to your eye.

       “Don’t you dare move your head to the left,” came your struggled words.  The angle your head was at didn’t seem to be well suited for speaking.

       “You mean the right.”

       “Right?  Oh, my left, your right.”

       “I know I’m right,” he snickered.

       “Way to ruin the moment,” you huffed, rolling your eyes.  It wasn’t something you’d admit just yet, but it was funny. You would remember it.

       “You’re welcome,” trilled his voice from below.

       Your eyes swiveled downwards despite the knowledge they wouldn’t see what you expected.  Eyes don’t quite work like that.  

       The muscles in your calves told you it was time to return to your intended height.  Settling for his shoulder as a chin rest instead, you held him a bit tighter as your smile softened.

       “Thank you, Eruon.”

       “For what?  It’s a hug.”

       “I was trying to make it scenic, I’m thanking you for helping me through everything.”

       “Drama Queen of the Rabbits Scarlet, prime example.”

       “Nevermind.”