♡⊹˚₊ Infuriating (is the water in his eyes)
I was in a mood what can I say
SUMMARY: the cycle of loving something that was never there
tw: blood & rabies mentioned
He was gone and he was back and he was gone and he was back so, so many times and it was so infuriating. So infuriating, the fact that he could be so insufferably upbeat and positive. So infuriating, his collectedness when in comparison you were a broken mess, his calmness that so easily escaped and seeped slowly into you.
Created so beautifully from pieces that discarded him so fast. Stories you heard from his soft lips, the king's robes that he had entangled himself in as a child, the queen's quill he used to tuck into his hat. His brothers and their brotherly love, a steadfast annoyance that was his nonetheless. How badly you wanted to tear them apart, sharp canines on their throats, like a rabid animal you dreamt. Like an animal you slept and like an animal you woke with a thirst so desperate. Water you could never drink, for you were nothing but rabid and he was so far, far away.
So infuriating was his effortless love that he just gave and gave and gave, and even more infuriating were his eyes, the way he looked at you whenever he returned home. So infuriating was the fact that he forced you to savor when all you wanted to do was take and take and take, greedy but even greedier still for he was always gone and back and gone again.
The sound of boots on wet earth outside. Trembling fingers. A latch. A step. Another. The dogs were barking outside and the hair on your arms arose. His eyes trembled as he hid behind a smile, and suddenly your water was back, cycling through you, cascading tears flowed down your eyes. A step. Another. Momentary relief.
But he was crying too. Why was he crying? Why didn’t he ever let you far enough in? His tears were not what you wanted to see.
Blood. That was what you dreamt of. You wanted to see it come out of his ears. You wanted to make sure he heard you scream I love you. Because the fleeting thing was always gone before he could say otherwise.
So infuriating, that he was right there. That he kept running and running and running. So infuriating, that in your mind he was gone again. That he only ever paused for you.
