il pleut quand tu souris (ne souris pas)
Sometimes, when Athena kisses you, you pretend that she loves you. Itâs not too hard; every motion is carefully calculated, a well thought-out dance of tongue against tongue, and you have no trouble fooling yourself into thinking sheâs trying to impress you. Sheâs probably picturing youâre Yari, but hey, a little white lie never hurt anybody. Not any more than loneliness does, anyway.
Itâs been years and you still donât know how to deal with it. Some strategist you are.
Once, when you were eleven years old, you asked Stella if she believed in true love. Sheâd been braiding your hair and grumbling about little cousins with haystacks in their head, but stopped to laugh once she heard your question. She laughed for what seemed like hours. Bit of an asshole, Stella.
"Maybe," she said at last, shooting you a devilish grin, "but not for us, baby. Weâre unlovable."
It felt like having a bucket of cold water thrown on you. âWhy?â
"Itâs not a bad thing, Bee. Love is never free. Itâs just an endless cycle of disappointment and reproach and unmet expectations."
Something like fondness flashes in her eyes, but itâs gone as quickly as it appeared. âYou donât. You respect me too much for that.â
(Itâs several years until you manage to understand what she meant, and when you do the realization comes with a whiff of Athenaâs scent, sharp with sweet undertones just like its owner, and the stray thought that she deserves the fairytale romance sheâs been pining for instead of some fuckup who canât even muster up enough courage to love herself).
Youâve known you belonged in the sea since you were little; youâre only at home when you can taste salt in the air, when the ground sways underneath you as if it was lulling you to sleep. The wood of your ship creaks comfortingly, a soft, welcoming chorus, and you feel safe.
When you stare into the ocean, you let yourself imagine hands like wisps of smoke reaching out to you, begging you to come back. You never do, but sometimes you wish you could.
The sea wants you because nobody else does.
(Home is where the heart is and your heart sank to the bottom long ago).
It doesnât take you long to realize Stella enjoys being unloved. You feel like something must be wrong with you, because youâve been crying yourself to sleep for years now, with your demons as only company. Your cousin makes friends with her own, though, and jealousy twists in your gut at the sight of it. You learn to grin and bear, and hope the day will come when your chest wonât feel so hollow anymore.
(It does, but it takes too long, and you never forget what itâs like to be empty and crumbling, to fall apart at the sight of your reflection in the mirror).
You love Athena, you really do, but youâd grown comfortable with the familiarity of the unrequited â the fact that she returns your feelings is a surprise, and not necessarily a pleasant one. Thereâs a vulnerability in her eyes that leaves you shaking. Sheâs had her heart broken already, and now sheâs placing it in your hands (your hands of all peopleâs, seriously Thena what is wrong with you). You know she hopes youâll take care of it, but you can barely take care of your own.
You kiss her, though, because you donât respect her as much as you should, and the warmth of her hand in yours is enough to kill you.
Thereâs a stranger where your best friend once stood, and you faintly remember smiles and warm eyes. Now thereâs only blood trickling down her chin and skin mottled with ugly blue bruises. You know you should do something, anything, but youâre left frozen, looking at her from what seems like miles away.
"Why?" you hear yourself say at last.
She replies, or maybe she doesnât, but either way you can tell the answer is âI donât knowâ, and the ground gives way underneath you.
You expected Danielle to still be alive by the time you found her, but thatâs because youâre an idiot who never learned her lesson. It doesnât get better. It never will.
You hold Livâs hand and rub her back as she cries into your shoulder. Sheâs so small, so fragile, and you know her shuddery sobs would break her if she wasnât already broken.
You wish you were better at damage control, but your body is too big for such a small heart, and all you can do is cry with her.
Dreaming of love and happiness was nice. Waking up, not so much.
You can only hope the sea will take you back.
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