mdhvreâ:
Thereâs an animal inside, coiled dormant somewhere between his third and fourth ribs and hibernating for too long now, an awakening long overdue. It crawls up his throat and turns his head, a mechanical rotate and click precisely 90 degrees to the side, directing his gaze to follow her as she trails closer.
Precocious child, too assured in her own ability to fight her way out again to know better than to gravitate too close to a satellite verging on collapse. The rope of scar tissue wrapped âround his neck tightens at the reminder that his is a mind tearing at the seams, and she has grown accustomed to a stability he cannot afford her at the moment. Even an incomplete noose like his is still enough to hang a man. âNothing, it doesnât mean anything.â
Perhaps it would have been better if Willie were here tonight after all, at least to act as a buffer between the tide of his moods and whoever is unfortunate enough to seek him out at these crossroads. He moves away as she moves closer, retreating further still into the kitchen, but the kettle remains untouchedâanother deviance from normalcy best not to dwell on.
âDo you need something, Clementine?â the eyes that find hers are frosted glass, the usual clarity there exchanged for a murky obscurity not unlike the clouded depths of a corpseâs stare. âWhat are you doing here tonight?â
An animal, quick to runâto burrow its way from hands that look to hold itâthis is no more than the image of domesticity. She is cautious enough to sense that there is something uneasy about himâit does her well, this feeling, this anticipation though it hardly is a clear image. Rather a hazy prickling on the back of her neck, a tingling where the bones of her skull meets her jaw.
Heâor whoever this is who lives in the skin of Ashley, inhabiting his bones and controlling his muscles like a hand in gloveâbrushes away Clementineâs questioning swiftly. âDoesnât sound like it means nothing,â her voice trails off, her curiosity doing its small part to press despite the strange circumstances before easing off, â⊠but I wonât twist your arm or anything. Just a weird thing to sayâa bit ominous even for you, Ashley.â
Without a word, she moves away from him, around the counter and goes to find the kettle, walking across the room to turn on the faucet. Even this normalcyâthis sound of water runningâstrikes an unnatural chord. She hardly works here or does much in regards to work despite the occasionally box of bag carried.
(Prove that you belongâthat you are more than a passing guest.)
âWell, I didnât really want to stick around at the Wishbone and I thought I could come hereâto stay for the night.â A point of clarification, though one she adds on as an afterthought, validation of her own motions and motives. âI did think Theo would be around but,â The faucet runs, nearly spilling over the kettle, she looks over her shoulder only to see a glassy, faraway stare, âwhatâs going on? Guess itâs been crazy between everything last month and now this fire but really, whatâs new?â












