Not About Angels [Madelynn/Red]

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If life was about finding the few trickles of light that shone through an otherwise dreary existence, then she had nothing left to look for. There was no light to wait for her at the end of each disappointment, nothing to be found in her mistakes that could even prompt hope. She had long lost any concept of such the moment she’d found that lone note waiting for her, the one that, unbeknownst to her, would be the last form of communication she’d have with Andrew for months. I’ll be back later, It had said, the words burned into her memory and the paper faded from the amount of times she’d traced his chicken-scratch handwriting. Don’t eat all the chocolate.

Such simple and nearly comical words that at first had brought a smile to her lips... but that had been months ago. Or perhaps half a year, an eternity, the woman failed to count after the first forty-eight hours. It was the denial that presented itself initially, as it would in anyone, but especially in a mind as cursed as hers. Questions spun through her brain along with options, options, and more options. Where had he gone? Did he have intentions of coming back? Had he even truly loved her at all? There had been too many for the anxious and pessimistic woman to consider, besides of course the instinct to go to the police. But all that lingered afterwards was the memories of how his lips felt, and the self-pitying doubt that she’d ever receive his affection again.

It was not the first nor the second time she’d felt this ache in her heart, but perhaps the most devastating thought of all; she’d truly believed it would be the last. The man had promised never to hurt her, and that belief had been enforced for so long that she’d nearly come to believe it. Maybe that was her mistake. Maybe the woman should have never proclaimed her love for him, never instilled trust. Maybe then, she would not feel as broken. But with the ache in her heart came the pleasant memories, and the flood of them that spilled into her mind each time she brought his pillow closer to her chest. Without him she would have never learned to trust again, without him she would have never found love. Without him she would have wandered through life worrying over the what-if’s and the concept that humans were evil. Without him she was nothing.

She was fully convinced that she had felt it as well; this ‘nothingness’, on a day to day basis. Feeling nothing was precisely how it sounded… numb. Worthless. Without him she was as good as dead. After days upon days of laying in the same spot in bed, longing for nothing more than to feel, it was with an almost pleasure that she’d drug a knife vertically down her wrist. Yet it was in the presence of death that the woman saw his face, his alluring miss-matched eyes, and the mental link that reminded her of the man’s own pain. It was this and only this that drug her from the depths of her eternal sleep – he needed her, more than she needed her heart to run dry.

So it was only with her shakily placed wounds that the woman was able to crawl from death’s door and reclaim her place in Andrews spot on the bed. And it was there she stayed. Phone calls, tv, internet, they were all of no interest to a woman already buried in her own imagination, an imagination that only included him. Images of him and their beautiful daughter reunited and living the fairytale ending that she believed to be bullshit. Images that, unfortunately, would never become reality.

Her hunger woke her from her near twelve hour sleep with it’s all too familiar roar, the writhing of her deprived stomach, the ache. But if anything it helped to remind her that she was truly alive, however miserable. No energy could be spared to rise from the bed so the woman rolled in her spot to bury her head in Andrew’s pillow instead. She didn’t want to leave this last remaining trace of him, however faded. The woman inhaled deeply in search of his scent, though it had long succumbed to the factor of time. Any trace of him, gone except for the house which remained in the exact order the man had left it in. It was as if he would walk through that door at any moment, and life would hit the play button again. But the woman couldn’t get so lucky, and time had seemingly run out. A strangled sob escaped her as she clung to the pillow. Please….why did you leave me?

The ache in her chest returned full-throttle and she pulled her knees to her chest as tears began to wrack her body. The soft fleece blanket that twisted around her toned legs was perhaps her only comfort, besides the blue pitbull that curled in the small of her back, and the teacup pig that snored close-by. What had she done to deserve the pain she felt? Surely this was worse than hell?
Though the hallucinations were worst of all. He came to her in her lucid dreams, and in her state of near death, she could feel his muscular arms around her and even the lips against her neck. Even now it became so real she heard the shudder of the window sill as it made way for his huge frame, and the sound of his claws against the hardwood floors. It was all a cruel joke, and any single movement towards the apparition would surely make it vanish, returning to the depths of her mind. She knew better than to approach.

Fingers curled into her palm as she beat its surface into her forehead. “No, no…not again” She pleaded, her tears seeping into her skin as she repeatedly brought her palm to her face. No, it was all too much, too real, and gave her too much hope. “Please,” She whispered hoarsely, only to hear the call of her name in reply, and the pure burst of joy she felt from that voice alone. Even still it had to have been a figment of her imagination. The mind was a cruel thing at the best of times, and the woman had lost the ability to tell reality from imagination.

And then she felt it. With Riot and Boo’s stirring in the bed came the warmth of a touch, one that could singlehandedly send ecstasy shooting up her spine. The woman’s eyes flashed open in immediate shock. Surely it was only her mind, wishing for the best, but alas the arms that surrounded her soon proved otherwise, and she was quickly wrapped into an embrace that jolted her into reality. The woman turned her head, fearing for the worst as she stiffly eyed the arms that had surrounded her. But instead they found him . “A-andrew?”

The name felt foreign on her tongue, but regardless she had said it. Now surrounded by the man she had so longed for, the woman collapsed into a fit of tears. “If this is a joke..” She pulled away to examine him thoroughly and drug a hesitant hand over his stubbly jaw, as if trying to convince herself that he was not another vision. Alas it was him, beaten and broken, but with features that would never be unfamiliar. Her dark eyes welled with thick tears, and moments later she had buried her face in the surface of his bare chest. “I-is this really you this time?” She asked, arms encircling his neck with an almost ferocity, given that she probably would never release him again.

He was warm, unlike the reflected heat of the bed, unlike the furry heat her dog provided. He was all the warmth she’d ever need. Seconds later and, with tears wracking her body, the woman subconsciously clambered into his lap and clung to his muscular frame, afraid to let go. Although he was so very similar to what she had been used to, the woman quickly realized that he was very different; stronger, larger, and were those scars that rose beneath her fingertips? Her eyes widened in horror as she pulled back, searching his handsome features for an answer she already knew. “A-are you okay?...N-no of course you’re not..” There would be time for talking, but now was not the time. She brought her lips to his and squeezed her eyes tight against the hope that rose within her. Had he truly come back to her? “Andrew… I… missed you so much…”

There were too many questions to be asked, too many words she wished to speak, but for now all the woman could wish to do was hold him, curled up safe in his arms and sob like a baby. Not just for the pain that had plagued her life… but for the lack of. For the first time in weeks the pain in her chest had alleviated, and her cuts had stopped their burning. Her heart was home.

the leviathan @ GS & BRSW

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Although trembling from food deprivation, the womans arms could not have surrounded him tighter than at that very moment. He gave her strength, when she was about at the end of her rope. She didn’t care about the throbbing of her wounds or the ache in her stomach, all of her pessimistic thoughts shoved their way into the back of her mind and locked themselves up; for in this moment, he was all that mattered. His sculpted features, his touch, his nearly forgotten scent, however... A bit more musky than she last remembered. But that all came with the territory that she settled on as if it was a second nature to her. She certainly didn't mind his... Lack of clothing, if anything it only helped to close the distance further.

Tremors shook her scrawny form, fear, but hiding bouts of joy. A timid feeling, scared of surfacing fully, but nonetheless still there and laced with the ecstasy that his touch brought. She’d missed it too much for words, so instead just closed her eyes and relished the moment; living in the present for the very first time in months. No more reminiscing about what they once had, clinging to the last remaining bits of clothing that still held his scent, no more hoping or yearning to feel the chills ricochet down her spine the way they did just so. Her jaw slackened from the pure ecstasy of it, putting it simply, the only positive touch she’d received in months…. And damn, did it feel good; like a whole new drug within her veins…. One that didn’t have the potential to kill her (hopefully, at least.).

With his new set of scars, though, she had to wonder. What was so evil that could have possibly held him for all that time, and damaged him so? Who could be dark enough to lay a hand on a man so selfless? Pondering the answer to her questions, although unknown, sent dread to settle within her. But that could wait. The negative could wait, she insisted on it. The woman struggled to clear her throat from around her wracking sobs. “Y-you’ve missed so much. A-adilynn’s gotten so big, Andrew, she’s beautiful and looks just like her father.” A lump caught in her throat towards the end of her speech, and tears rolled down her cheeks as she buried her face into the man’s neck. It had been excruciating for her to look upon the face of her infant daughter, given her similarities to her father, therefore she hadn’t gone to see her in weeks. The slightest of pangs ripped through her heart at the thought. “God I thought you had left me.” She whispered, lips brushing against his sensitive skin as she spoke.

“I-I didn’t want to believe it, but what was I to think? I was so done Andy…” Her voice grew hoarse with her confession, her bitter honesty enough to silence the room. She closed her eyes tight and felt the blade against her skin again, the sweet hope of relief as the blood had drained from her that dark day. "So done with life without you." So done, she would have left her faithful pets and her daughter, to grow up in spite of her biological mother? She glanced to the bed, ashamed of this realization.

Madelynn rose a hand and carefully wiped at the tears across her cheeks. “Where did you go? I-I felt your pain and I couldn’t do anything about it….”A rift had formed in the mental wall she’d created and now the memories seeped through, although not of her past but of him. Days upon days she’d spent, curling in bed with eyes that no longer formed tears, agony tearing across her back in the form of…. What? What were they doing to him? All the woman could do let her mind play their nasty tricks as she had curled against the soft cotton sheets. She had prayed that wherever he was, he could find solace somehow. Timid and trembling fingertips slid along the man’s torso to his back, though jerking back quickly upon the familiar feeling of scar tissue. “Oh god babe...” Her tears slid down her face with a new bout of fresh pain. “What did they do to you…w-wha..” She silenced her own self with another kiss, simply longing for something more than the negativity.

She needed to stop talking, to stop worrying about the pain he had suffered and the loss she'd felt without him by her side. She knew damn well it wasn't going to change the past. So she silenced herself, including her tears, and instead poured her longing into a single kiss. She pulled herself close and let her sense of touch guide the way to relearning the subtleties of his torso and facial features. He was her world, her rock and right in this moment, she felt whole for the first time in a long damn while.

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