|breathe me anew
Author: as beauty dies PM
August begins with her lips split open and bleeding raw on the pavement. — One-sided het. Ficlet.Rated: Fiction T - English - Suspense - Words: 402 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 2 - Published: 03-22-08 - Status: Complete - id: 2493060
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
- breathe me in anew
-- by: as beauty dies / pixie paramount (LJ) / Noelle
-- genre: (very creepy) character (introspective) study - het, murderous intent - suspense
-- note: Totally and utterly inspired by the song "Angels" from Within Temptation. (& i'm so sorry that Charles is a creepy one; I really am...not.)
August starts with her lips bleeding; the sticky, sticky red dribbling down from her broken lip down to her chin and further south, like a red-dyed Nile twisting and slithering down her skin like a snake.
She doesn't bother try to wash the mess away when she finally notices. She brings her fingers to her lips and brushes her pads against the raw mess, pulling away at the stinging pain that crosses her and blinking at the painted red pads before her eyes. A dazed smile crosses her lips and you wonder if, finally, she's gone a bit nuts.
The sun shines high above without a cloud to blemish the skies surface, just a bright yellow against a placid blue backdrop. You sit side-by-side in the park and watch the people bristle on by in the city and you wonder.
Maybe, just maybe, this should all end.
September begins with her lips scabbed over from her constant licking and sucking and biting of the wound. She's addicted to the sweet, sweet stings that come from opening it up (just like the scabs on her knees).
There is fire all around you, the fields surrounding the country-side smell heavy of gasoline and arson, your fingers sticky and warm from popping Papa Bear's eyes out from his skull. You figure there is red-splattered mess all over your shirt like a plate of spaghetti and meatballs thrown on your shirt, you could care less at this moment.
You watch the fields burn, the fire spreading fast like a flood and you breath in the sickly smell like some sort of aphrodisiac.
(If you even bothered to look, you would see that she is crying.)
December begins and ends, as does a New Year.
(This new city burns just as pretty and a patch of new earth grows beneath your feet, between your toes.
The earth is thriving and she's still attached by your side.)
It begins and ends with just you and her in this perfect, no longer imaginary, world you created.
And this is paradise.