]: 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙺𝚈, 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝙽 . @cynicise.
𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝙾𝙳𝚈 𝙸𝚂 𝙰 𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙸𝙳𝚄𝙰𝙻’𝚂 𝙲𝙻𝙰𝙸𝙼 . & she’s always tired, always hungry. a ache sticks to the insides of her ribs, echoing from the inside of marrow behind flesh. there is the phantom sensation of a sticking past her skin, the prickling feeling of a godless suffering — & again, she thinks about how tired she is, how hunger makes itself a manifestation. it comes as rugged breath, placing fingers at her arms that fold over her stomach, nails that aren’t her own that make crescents in her skin. CRESCENTING : SAVAGING. there is a feral bubbling behind her surface, an exterior that holds like steel before peeling behind heat. & THESE ARE MOMENTS WHERE SHE REMEMBERS THE DISTANT COOING OF A FATHER WHO CALLS HIMSELF A GOD. all at once again, she’s a sadness permeating through pores, a sorrow that wails beside an ache that accompanies her exhaustion, her hunger, her helplessness. [ 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙻𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝚁𝙾𝚂𝚈 ] · [ 𝚁𝙾𝚂𝚈 𝙸𝚂 𝙰 𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙽 𝚆𝙸𝚂𝙷 ] it comes together without mercy, & her eyelashes flutter in the calling of sleep behind the seeing lens ; she’s alone in the grasping of an abyss, her brother a snicker that becomes a sneer, her brother a whine than becomes a scream, but her eyes open. she is still hungry, still tired, still a body failing from the lacking of bitter gift. a caged, hopeful thing that could only flicker in faithless doubt. the sky shatter is an obvious stutter, but the sun comes up — mika finds her, & his hand waves in front of her face in her withering response, a dying meadow fractures in the windows of her eyes, but she paints a picture of lesser grief.
𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙴𝚂 𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚁𝙸𝚃𝚈 . but mika arrives early to rehearsal, & she’s a wilted flower dodging the concern she knows will color. ❛ it’s so hard to keep track of time here. it feels like everyday is one day. ❜ this is mused without breath, & the curtains of her eyes fall lower & faster every time she cannot pay attention — the sun carries the sky, just as the sky allows the sun to live surrounded, just as yukari allows mika to give her that scolding, scathing look of concern ( it burns her, if only because she doesn’t want to deserve that expression. ). & she pretends a wider smile, pretends her arms weren’t folded over her stomach in pain just minutes ago, instead trades the display of aching into blues unshadowed by earth. ❛ i didn’t notice this immediately, but.. you look sad, so stop that. ❜ she is the amused predator, & her smile is the warning before the pounce. & POUNCE, SHE DOES. he yelps when her arms cross over his shoulders, a tireless laughter comes from her throat, a song that steals respiration from her lungs ; melodies screech in the way she, the sky, surrounds he, the sun. & he could be lesser amused, but the smile she sees drawn over the edges of his lips is enough for her to huff in the simplest satisfaction. the only thing she’s ever wanted from him is his smile.
❛ 𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝚁𝙴 𝙶𝙾𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾 𝙷𝚄𝚁𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙵 𝙸𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝙴𝙰𝚃 . and you aren’t sleeping either. ❜ he torments her by the pinch placed to her cheeks, a harm done to her in a harmless whisper. & she takes this with the grain of salt the exits past her lips, widened eyes draped over the slow blinks that disorientate an exile of consciousness — but she still allows this wakefulness, still allows a foot taken past where another allows. [ 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙷𝙰𝙳 𝙱𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝙰 𝙶𝙾𝙳 : 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙼𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙷𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙸𝚃 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙰 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] isn’t this prohibited nature allowed to the child of a distant being ( & she knows this couldn’t be an unspoken truth, knows that the children of gods do not walk. ) ? she wants to protest, but a nauseating sensation hungers after her voice, & she can only make that puff of air she’s taken to retort shorter. she almost wants to question the assumption, but it goes interrupted by certainty tracing his tongue — & he’s smiling so brightly that she feels inclined to take note of just what touches the atmosphere. ❛ your skin is basically grey. you have those loopy eyes, with black circles — y’know ? ❜ the revelation of his words is punctuated by the teasing : a lilt accompanying the tail of his sentence, hands cupping rounded around his eyes, each a discovery of another depth to the purse of her lips, a purse that puckers as a childish smile. HER LIGHT IS A REFLECTION IN THIS MOMENT.
𝚂𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳𝚂 𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚂 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝚄𝙻𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂 . a muted sound of gravel coughs from her throat as a distraction to the swaying wind : SHE, THE SWAYING WIND. & the gravel distraction is made to be another bout of laughter once the sun caresses her shoulder, a hand where the absence of warmth had become. the replica of stained glass, she attempts another play at light, attempts to discard these horribly alive feelings that carves itself into her ; she wants to begin as the holy ground that holds, but she is neither the soil nor the church, the warmth or the people — she wants to sleep without the assaults.
❛ 𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝚁𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙰 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝚃 . i think my mom worried less about me than you do. ❜ & YOU SAY THIS, BUT YOU REGRET IT. the questions possibly locked under those words are loaded guns blooming bullets, so you crease your voice into something less than compounded. [ 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙺𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙼𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙸𝙳 ] : [ 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙺𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚈 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙼𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 ] a mother’s concern is second - hand, & it is an alien expression that lingers in the joints of her fingers, folding into each other as paper does. the house of cards quivers, she holds her breath almost into oblivion ; mika’s hands take base upon her face when she tilts off axis, an action only supported by the lacking trace of her body. ❛ i have been eating, & sleeping ! i don’t just.. not take care of myself… ❜ & though her voice fades in the retaliation of her hesitancy in response, the firm grapple of her words take up in the deficiency — smiling sunshine, golden boy, this sky has seen night before you’ve set yourself among the stars beyond her. but you make fireflies where she’s only seen darkness, you make the sun where she’s seen a forever eclipsed moon. ❛ it — ❜ words half - drift into a dry sputter.
❛ 𝚈𝚄𝙺𝙰𝚁𝙸 , ❜ after moments, she floats — she doesn’t expect him to speak. a kiddish type of anxiety riddles holes in her skin the way her brother found his body riddled with a fragility that bound him to a forced leisure. HE ATTACHES HIMSELF TO HER SHOULDERS, A SMILE SHE DOESN’T THINK LOOKS FORCED MAKING AN ABSOLUTE FOOL OF RADIANCE. ❛ we care about you, really ! & if no one else for sure, then me for sure ! we’ve got to get through this alive, so you’re coming to have dinner with us tonight. you can even have the portions i don’t eat ! ❜ there is no strength in her to protest against something so genuine that ignites her own smile, shaping fireflies to shape a jar — fooling the night, even.
𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙽𝙾𝙳𝚂 . there’s no use, she considers this thought in initial reach of his request, but she also considers his smile & erases the fact that she will still hunger & tire when the food is gone, when she staggers to her own perch.
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