#iterte

@iterte​​​     /     gets a smooch     /     accepting

damp grass beneath bare feet, a scene repeated for more times than either had cared to count. always the same in the bigger picture. always different in its details. death willed it so. if one had to suffer death by her sister’s hands again & again & again, the least they could was lift the fear of the act itself.

dying was only easy if death wanted it to be.

they knelt down next to the body, broken & bruised & uninhabitable. not suitable for a soul a minute longer, little more than a cage. death scoffed. a cruel joke, stuffing souls, valuable & beautiful & breakable, into a vessel as unpleasant as the human body. a restraint they disliked & yet had to accommodate themselves with. 

but this was no time to reminisce. they had work to do & better start before the body beside them began to rot. it was such a simple act, too, leaning in, a gentle press of lips against lips & then - the body was left behind, but their friend, in her essence, was still there. not for long. soon she would be torn apart yet again only to begin the cycle anew. 

but in this moment, they had a few precious moments all to themselves. 

i hope this letter find you in good health. i truly do for your health is may be the only i hold any interest in. hours grow direly long without you & though each meeting marks the highlight of my years, for your sake i hope it is the last.   (   suggesting otherwise would be selfish, but the loss of you would leave a noticeable hole.   )   but perhaps this cycle of your life shows some improvements to the previous. i shall try to make it so, but you know how little my influence over the living is. therefore, i harbor justified doubts, though for your sake, i shall pray.   (   that, however, is a white lie. i do not pray & will not start, my apologies.   )   

waiting for you, always & ever,

@iterte​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​     /     ruin & rising sentences     /     no longer accepting   !

↺  ‘ i wasn’t afraid of you. i was afraid of losing you. ‘

no easy task, rendering a deity speechless & yet on rare instances it might happen. I WAS AFRAID OF LOSING YOU. when had they been told this the last time? had they ever? when they were young, perhaps, a careless child that would laugh when they took a soul with them, that was not yet feared by those they roamed among. I WAS NOT AFRAID OF YOU. they bit their lip, eyes downcast, almost bashfully so. 

(   you should be afraid of me ! death wanted to shout, but it felt wrong to even think it. how strange, when lies would usually find an easy home on their tongue.   )

❝           i’m   from   new   jersey.     i   was   born   in   toxic   sludge.          ❞  

there’s a hum of acknowledgment. she’s right. fin knows she’s right. humans have survival instincts, every single one of them. some may use it more or less than others, but it’s still there, and everyone needed to make choices. ‘did you figure that out from personal experience?’ questions he with a drink from his bottle. ‘i know i did,’

“ i was cleaning up when i found this creepy room hidden behind the wallpaper . ”          /         @iterte.​

        ❛    i’m  afraid  i  don’t  know  very  many,   ❜   anya  admits  with  a  sheepish  smile,  fingers  tracing  over  the  star  chart.   she  knew  all  the  zodiac  signs  could  be  found  in  the  night  sky,  but  she  was  hopeless  with  knowing  each  configuration  except  her  own,  and  even  that  she’s  only  seen  in  illustrations.   anya  still  could  only  remember  bits  and  pieces  of  her  former  life,  but  she  figured  astrology  wasn’t  exactly  a  vital  part  of  a  grand  duchess’  course  syllabus.   ❛    you  seem  more  knowledgeable  than  i  am.   which  ones  do  you  know ?    ❜