#invisibear

Is it bad that i know the feeling of your shoulderblades probably better than anyone else on this earth? I've felt their ridge every time we press back to back, convinced of our mortality but not ready to die. The times I smelt the sweat and sulfur and the grit blood that sticks to your skin so hot and rough that it feels like sandpaper sharkskin ready to cut a man open if they so much as touched you. 

And I know that bony cliff of your shoulder when blinded by heathaze and too hurt to walk, and you've carried me back from the edge so many times, just as I've dragged you by the hair. I've seen the insides of you more times than any lover, sewed them up more times too. 

But there's also the curve of your arm, the way it hooks into mine, and our fists hit against one another. Brick and steel. Unmovable. Unbreakable. 

"Watch my back," you say, striding onto the frontlines, and with the angle of the sun, you're almost blinding.