scraphs:
doubt. she could let it cloud her mind, let herself question whether she’d made the right decisions. but the blood on her hands decides it for her. “you couldn’t have done anything.” she says firmly, arms surrounding him. a cool cheek presses against his, skin wet from their tears. “i’m sorry but…but you did what you had to do. they attacked us.” could they have tried to reason with his parents ?? no. the more she thinks about the look in their eyes, the more she is sure of it. but if his parents were already dead, how were they here ?? “mason, there is a fucked up demonic hand in this. you saw them, you saw the way they looked at you. there was something wrong with them.”
he chocked on something akin to a sob at her words, the noise getting stuck in the back of his throat as his shoulders sagged almost like a puppet strumbling on the ground after its strings were cut all together. ❝ i‒ ❞ know. he wanted to say but he stopped, the word not coming out, all the doubts and images of what just happened still swirling in his head, making it hard to concentrate. he closed his eyes, one breath, two breaths, willing himself to focus on the only real thing about that whole damned night, aspen, the one whose embrace seemed to keep him grounded instead of spiraling into giving into the urge to turn again and run as fast as his legs would allow him to. he reached up, his still blood stained hands holding onto her arms. ❝ how. how could that– happen. it doesn’t make sense. ❞
