#spiritsfound

❛  You carry around a bible?  ❛     𝐁𝐘  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃  𝐎𝐅  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄,   you might think that the witch-woman had found angel dust or a loaded gun in his bag.  But,  no  —nothing so fun,  just an old leather-worn bible that she caught a glimpse of before it was gone again.  Her head,  heavy with loose,  dark curls,  tilts to the side as she regards the man currently sharing her park-bench.  The sunlight blotted out this Tuesday with grey overcast,  but she still dons heavy black sunglasses.  They hide the amusement glinting in her eyes.  Mouth half-quirking.  You can call it a smile,  if you want.   

❛  That's fun. Are you one of those traveling priests,  or something?  ❛

send ❔ and i’ll list a couple muses that i’d like to throw at yours!

dolores

jude

alex

eliza

it was all so strange and so surreal. ⊰ @spiritsfound

the words lingered in the air,  fragile  &  heavy all at once.   

lourdes watched benny,  the way his breath sat uneven in his chest,  the way his fingers twitched like they longed to grasp something real.  strange.  surreal.  she knew the feeling well — the way the world could slip through your hands,  how even the ground beneath you could feel like a dream that might dissolve at any moment.   

she moved without a word,  closing the space between them.  her hand,  cool  &  steady,  found his.  a light touch at first,  then a firmer press,  a silent offering:  you are here.  i am here.  the world has not swallowed you whole. 

❝the feeling will pass, ❞ she said softly,  though she knew it was not always so simple.  some things stayed,  became part of you,  shadows that stretched long into the years.  but she had carried such things before.  she could carry this too — if he would let her.   

❝  who did this to you?  ❞

 at some point,    surely,    universe is going to give her a day off.    eyes don't rise at the question,    busy with careful wrapping bandage around lower arm.    (   she'd forgotten they'd agreed to meet    -    a slip in her memory so rare that she can't blame fellow professor for coming to see what had happened.    it's not like her to forget,    even less like her to forget a promise.   )     small winch gives scientist away no matter how well she may keep posture    &&   voice steady,    as if nothing at all is wrong,    as though her sleeve isn't messy and red.