09-07-2018, 06:18 PM
Jay fell into a cavern of silence. Utterly and completely stolen of words, thought, reaction. Natalie's words echoed the thoughts buried deep that none should know. Locked down so tight, Jay barely acknowledged the existence but for when the cage rattled for freedom.
Silence was the sandy foundation upon which the towers of his heart were built, but sand dissipated with the merest wash of water. Whether that water slid silent as white foam warmth or slicked a green carpet over swamps didn't matter. The notion of truth eroded away what he thought held him up as sure as venomous lies. The wave swept. Sand erased. The pieces began to fall apart.
He wanted to hide. Maybe he did. Eclipsed beneath the shade of the Stetson. She couldn't see the ghosts flashing behind his eyes like they haunted the inside of his skull. The headache was their doing. Scratching and clawing to be let out. To erupt and roar the painful truth rather than sit inside, dusty and caged.
He wanted to leave the furnace that was confronting the truth. Inhibitions crushed, Natalie was the conduit to a soul that lied only to itself. She could plunge into those dark places, unafraid of being bit by the vipers hidden therein, and wrench away what she believed existed. A lobotomy would be preferable. Jay was ready to flee, needing to hide in the darkness like a frightened kid beneath the sheets.
The ice that flushed his skin wasn't what shook him to his core. It wasn't the flash of forced light or the sting of raw truth.
It was the possibility that Natalie might stop reaching into the dark. She might withdraw her hand when the fangs sank too deep. For some reason, she was a cord to the outside world, the streak of a comet to a man isolated on his lonely island. A shout into the universe that shouted back.
What if the universe went silent? That sound, the complete vacuum of nothingness, would be worse than any other fate. In this moment, listening to her, watching her struggle as surely the drinks proved, as comprehension sank into his bones, Jay knew the truth. A truth he wasn't going to lie over.
This was a second chance, and he wasn't going to blow it. Not again. Secrets be damned. Darkness be damned. He could make his own damn light and use it to dispel the ghosts haunting her shadow.
The hat dropped on the bar. He turned to grab her arm before she fucking fell off her seat. His grip clamped the wrist as a steady anchor, not as chains. A wrist smooth and pale, shackles cast aside.
"You're right about her, Natalie," he began, wondering if the words pierced the veil of alcohol. How did she even know about Anna Marie? What did Cayli whisper? Questions for later. He'd try to breech those walls anyway. She had to hear. Ten thousand lives spoke from within, wanting, needing her to hear. "I used to want her. I used to want a lot of things. I don't want them anymore. I'm not the same man these people know." Maybe he never was. Maybe the man he pretended to be was a lie all along.
He licked his lips like the gesture may empower strength to hang on when she wanted to leap from the ledge. The thing was, if she was going to fall, he'd follow her down.
Nobody so much as glimpsed who he was. Except her. For some damned confusing reason, she accepted it. Darkness and light. She stood steadfast, staring down the barrel of this weapon sure to blast any second without flinching.
The voice in the darkness that called her name. She didn't imagine it. She was likely to forget this entire conversation, but he would remember for the both of them. The touch on her arm was too much and yet not enough. He wanted closer than was possible. To grip her close. Warmth and need and desire burning within them both finally freed.
"You will do what you need to do, and you will be what you need to be. Because that's who you are." For Cayli, for him, for her family. For Ekene. They both shed blood, both beat clenched fists on the concrete to bloody pulps. But they both clawed onward by tooth and nail. All it took was a hint of hope. A flicker of light across the vast, empty universe. A direction to march onward. So long as that existed, all the shit and blood between here and there was tolerable.
She was so beautiful.
"Come on. Let's go upstairs."
He helped her to her feet, left behind yet another teased meal. Another drink abandoned. But God knew he would drown himself in the same golden seas of despair that she chose for herself. He knew what it was like to be so drunk he couldn't operate. When the walls warped and weaved with each step. To bleed and cry until the last drop of water was wrung from his body. The clink of empty bottles tripping up underfoot. To lay on a pyre of glass, begging someone to set it aflame because he couldn't do it himself.
He accepted her weight against him. Boots led the way as she shuffled along. The Stetson was the shield that blocked neon lights from ripping across her pale gaze. It seemed all backward. Like she was suppose to be the one that banked the floodwaters of despair overflowing his soul. Yet at the same time it felt so right. Nothing else mattered but this moment. Let him plunge into darkness with company for once. He could handle the fangs, his flesh armored by hope and thickened with cause. God help him if hope and cause were stripped away. The vulnerability might kill him, then.
He paused as they stepped into the hall. Jasmeen, Anna Marie's friend, turned a corner just then, fixed him with a glare. He smiled and nodded, a dip of the head, but silence stretched forth like shaking hands with an old friend. She huffed and hurried away. She was likely off to report to Anna Marie. He'd not stop her.
The wide hall might as well have been a narrow alley. Jay studied each and every shadow like ambush awaited within. The elevator dinged. He didn't exhale until her room door clicked behind him.
He planted himself against the door, Stetson dangling from one hand while his head rested back. His own silence was a deafening, familiar song to a tune they both knew.
Restlessness crept in, though. He moved from the door to cross the entire length of the room to the window. They were not high up by his demand for easy escape but high enough to study the sky. The stretch of the landscape beyond was mostly flat. The horizon far. Stormclouds bubbled high, white towers in the distance. It was that time of year.
He should leave her alone. He should do a lot of things.
But he didn't.
Silence was the sandy foundation upon which the towers of his heart were built, but sand dissipated with the merest wash of water. Whether that water slid silent as white foam warmth or slicked a green carpet over swamps didn't matter. The notion of truth eroded away what he thought held him up as sure as venomous lies. The wave swept. Sand erased. The pieces began to fall apart.
He wanted to hide. Maybe he did. Eclipsed beneath the shade of the Stetson. She couldn't see the ghosts flashing behind his eyes like they haunted the inside of his skull. The headache was their doing. Scratching and clawing to be let out. To erupt and roar the painful truth rather than sit inside, dusty and caged.
He wanted to leave the furnace that was confronting the truth. Inhibitions crushed, Natalie was the conduit to a soul that lied only to itself. She could plunge into those dark places, unafraid of being bit by the vipers hidden therein, and wrench away what she believed existed. A lobotomy would be preferable. Jay was ready to flee, needing to hide in the darkness like a frightened kid beneath the sheets.
The ice that flushed his skin wasn't what shook him to his core. It wasn't the flash of forced light or the sting of raw truth.
It was the possibility that Natalie might stop reaching into the dark. She might withdraw her hand when the fangs sank too deep. For some reason, she was a cord to the outside world, the streak of a comet to a man isolated on his lonely island. A shout into the universe that shouted back.
What if the universe went silent? That sound, the complete vacuum of nothingness, would be worse than any other fate. In this moment, listening to her, watching her struggle as surely the drinks proved, as comprehension sank into his bones, Jay knew the truth. A truth he wasn't going to lie over.
This was a second chance, and he wasn't going to blow it. Not again. Secrets be damned. Darkness be damned. He could make his own damn light and use it to dispel the ghosts haunting her shadow.
The hat dropped on the bar. He turned to grab her arm before she fucking fell off her seat. His grip clamped the wrist as a steady anchor, not as chains. A wrist smooth and pale, shackles cast aside.
"You're right about her, Natalie," he began, wondering if the words pierced the veil of alcohol. How did she even know about Anna Marie? What did Cayli whisper? Questions for later. He'd try to breech those walls anyway. She had to hear. Ten thousand lives spoke from within, wanting, needing her to hear. "I used to want her. I used to want a lot of things. I don't want them anymore. I'm not the same man these people know." Maybe he never was. Maybe the man he pretended to be was a lie all along.
He licked his lips like the gesture may empower strength to hang on when she wanted to leap from the ledge. The thing was, if she was going to fall, he'd follow her down.
Nobody so much as glimpsed who he was. Except her. For some damned confusing reason, she accepted it. Darkness and light. She stood steadfast, staring down the barrel of this weapon sure to blast any second without flinching.
The voice in the darkness that called her name. She didn't imagine it. She was likely to forget this entire conversation, but he would remember for the both of them. The touch on her arm was too much and yet not enough. He wanted closer than was possible. To grip her close. Warmth and need and desire burning within them both finally freed.
"You will do what you need to do, and you will be what you need to be. Because that's who you are." For Cayli, for him, for her family. For Ekene. They both shed blood, both beat clenched fists on the concrete to bloody pulps. But they both clawed onward by tooth and nail. All it took was a hint of hope. A flicker of light across the vast, empty universe. A direction to march onward. So long as that existed, all the shit and blood between here and there was tolerable.
She was so beautiful.
"Come on. Let's go upstairs."
He helped her to her feet, left behind yet another teased meal. Another drink abandoned. But God knew he would drown himself in the same golden seas of despair that she chose for herself. He knew what it was like to be so drunk he couldn't operate. When the walls warped and weaved with each step. To bleed and cry until the last drop of water was wrung from his body. The clink of empty bottles tripping up underfoot. To lay on a pyre of glass, begging someone to set it aflame because he couldn't do it himself.
He accepted her weight against him. Boots led the way as she shuffled along. The Stetson was the shield that blocked neon lights from ripping across her pale gaze. It seemed all backward. Like she was suppose to be the one that banked the floodwaters of despair overflowing his soul. Yet at the same time it felt so right. Nothing else mattered but this moment. Let him plunge into darkness with company for once. He could handle the fangs, his flesh armored by hope and thickened with cause. God help him if hope and cause were stripped away. The vulnerability might kill him, then.
He paused as they stepped into the hall. Jasmeen, Anna Marie's friend, turned a corner just then, fixed him with a glare. He smiled and nodded, a dip of the head, but silence stretched forth like shaking hands with an old friend. She huffed and hurried away. She was likely off to report to Anna Marie. He'd not stop her.
The wide hall might as well have been a narrow alley. Jay studied each and every shadow like ambush awaited within. The elevator dinged. He didn't exhale until her room door clicked behind him.
He planted himself against the door, Stetson dangling from one hand while his head rested back. His own silence was a deafening, familiar song to a tune they both knew.
Restlessness crept in, though. He moved from the door to cross the entire length of the room to the window. They were not high up by his demand for easy escape but high enough to study the sky. The stretch of the landscape beyond was mostly flat. The horizon far. Stormclouds bubbled high, white towers in the distance. It was that time of year.
He should leave her alone. He should do a lot of things.
But he didn't.
Only darkness shows you the light.