#xdrbloom

She was a small stain on the white backdrop of the snow. She was standing there, her hair being lightly blown about. Her eyes were vivid, they always were. So vivid that even when he shut his he could see their color. She wasn’t talking now. But he wanted to hear the sound of her voice. And then she did talk. She asked to come in and he let her.

It was warm inside. But the flush to her pale cheeks still remained there. Flushed from the cold. He always used to like the way that happened. Like the way her hair was beat about, the soft curls creating a dance around her face. And he remembered liking the taste of her chap stick, he remembered the softness of her lips. The scent that lingered all around her and it always seemed deep within him, that scent, those feelings.

But all that was gone now. All that disappeared and faded. There was only now. Only the present, with all the hurt and all the pain. With all the lies and scar tissue.

She asked it now, what he knew she had come here to ask about. Jack had told her. It was obvious. He was leaving. She wasn’t here to stop him. She only wanted confirmation. She had never been opposed to him taking a break. She had wanted him to.

She had reached across the table and said she wanted to save him. She had wanted to help. She never wanted him to dive head first into the shadows. There was never anything there to catch someones falling.

She had tasted the shadows now. He wondered if it had embittered her lips.

"I have to." he said with a small nod, approaching her. Cautious. But she didn’t move.

She nodded, swallowing. He stopped just before her. Same spot. Same place as when he had heard something, far away. And she had been his one grasp into reality, the only one.

Things were so different now. Things were shattered. Like broken glass. He stepped on it as he walked. Being crushed. Like the whole world around him. The atmosphere had been crushed, too. All around them. Soon they would suffocate.

She looked up at him. Steady. In the stream of her eyes he saw a million shades. Ones he wanted to uncover and pull away. But he looked away a moment, steadying himself as she had done. He looked back at her again.

"I know…" she whispered, understanding. But not small. Not broken up.

He nodded his head. There felt like there was a cut on the tip of his tongue, he could almost taste blood. He pushed out her name. His mouth felt full of all those broken pieces, cutting, stabbing. Like memories. Like all that had passed between them. There was so much more that he wanted to say. There were a thousand things playing inside of him. But all he was left was ash, impaled by the feelings that were so deep inside of him.

He wanted to ask her to come with him. He knew that he wouldn’t. That he couldn’t, What would he do with her there?