A strangulated laugh fell out of Pearlâs mouth like a nasty habit. It was always a kick in the teeth when she was bitterly reminded how much the world liked to chew her up and spit her back out in a gargled and vile heap. Would her bones break from the impact this time? Sometimes sheâd hope for a pain so thick that it could travel through her nerve endings and snap her neck sideways. Words had a way of sinking under her skin like that. Nasty little stick and poke tattoos that screamed: stupid, stupid, how could you be so fucking stupid? Her brain was itâs very own haunted cinema, churning out previews of something she thought sheâd wanted. Wildflowers tickling her ankles as she purred out into the midnight air. Ready or not. Sheâd tasted the world on Killianâs lips and she forgot how hungry she was for it. She was so hungry, itâd ached against the corners of her mouth as he held her. Surely, it wasnât asking for much, to be important too.
Pearl wanted to cry but sheâd run out of tears. Somehow, it was worse. It was worse just to stand there and slowly absorb Harleenâs spite like blood seeping into white cotton. What if sheâd smiled better? Held herself together instead of always falling apart? What if sheâd gotten rid of Reid sooner instead of being so pathetic? What if sheâd tied a blue ribbon around her badly beating pulse and promised sheâd get better? What if she tried harder? What if sheâd begged him? Love me, love me, please just love me. A slow exhale of air left Pearlâs lungs. She wanted to get rid of all the oxygen in her body. It was all so very tiring. Silence seemed to stretch out until the ends of time but Pearl didnât care. She didnât care. She was too spent to care at all. Who would make it better this time? With a shaking hand, she wiped the silent tears from her cheek, still staring at nothing in particular, even the jade of her eyes seeming to weaken into a dull, mossy green. It seemed fitting.
âItâs hilarious how empty my life is sometimes,â Pearl had to laugh as she spat the words out, her ribs aching with the sudden bewildering amusement that was zapping through her brain. âOh me.â It all seemed to bleed into obscurity. All that chasing through the woods, creeping around the rusting bark of trees and wishing on the stars that the moment could swallow her up forever, gone. He wasnât what she wanted him to be, it wasnât his fault really. The words sheâd cried to Reid seemed to bounce around the padded cell of her brain, almost spoiling her laughter but not quite: only a kiss, only a kiss, only a kiss. Thatâs all it was, a taste test, a palette cleanser. Pearl fiddled with a cigarette packet the more she thought about it. Perhaps it was a bitter injustice having her heart ripped out and placed on an appetising tray for her to pick at -- Harleen had given her a chance to pick herself clean.
Uncaring about the bartender trying to wave her outside, Pearl unravelled the packet to find a single scrawled message there: duty calls. A smile tweaked at her lips, along with a sudden and daunting realisation. She had to pause for a second, the words rolling past her backwards until she met Harleenâs gaze. âYou know, thanks,â the words were coated in a fragile sense of security. âMaybe Iâve just been... Falling for the wrong people.â She slid a cigarette between her teeth and held it there, the flickering flame from her Mickey Mouse lighter sparking off the slow release cancer until her lungs filled with it. âThe Killianâs and the Reidâs and the Jasonâs and the fucking whoevers in-between. Iâm bored of the boys who donât treat me so good,â she exhaled a gust of smoke.
After all, Harleen was right; there was no way Killian could treat her in the way she needed, in the way sheâd always craved because how could he when he was only fucking carbon copies of Adelaide? How could Pearl be that stupid to think she could change the mind of a boy who treated her little more than the brute Sawyer had painted that dirt track road with? Sheâd helped to drive the nails into the Killian marked door until there was no point in trying to dig those bolts back out. Returning to nasty habits had died with flushing out Reid into the sewers of her subconscious anyway. Pearl clung to her packet of cigarettes, Bradleyâs scribbled writing all over them, filling her with a little glow.Â
âYeah. Iâm bored of assholes,â she paused, the brunetteâs words swarming in her stomach: âPearlâs going to find Finn because of the big fat crush she has on himâ. âI want somebody better.â
gummygunk
kaledo-art
janainaart
ellievsbear
prguitarman
