LOU HOLSTAD – cloudedwrath.
his eyes open slowly , fighting against a perpetual fatigue that seems to dust his lids . though when he’s greeted by the muted green glow of stars , he hardly blinks , a gaze fixated towards a makeshift sky of constellations . he takes his time , familiar with inky blackness but all too intrigued with the spattering of light . it paints him as a little kid , a speechlessness fuelled by curiosity . then she continues and his heart drops to his stomach , guilt consuming him with the same fervour he’d drank down the simple beauty of sticker stars . ‘ sawyer , i . ’ he sits up now , and thankfully midday doesn’t leave him completely blind . ‘ you’re not … i should have … ’ his teeth scrape against his gums , swallowed by a thick silence that shrouds like heavy fog . a gaze tampered by the dark finds hers . ‘ i’m sorry i didn’t remember . ‘ there’s a fear that strikes deep , that apologies thin every time it splits from his lips . sorry’s become undone , stripped until it’s left bare , until one day when she says that sorry’s just a word , that it doesn’t mean anything . ‘ oh man . ’ he breathes out , but attempts something of a smile nevertheless . ‘ you didn’t have to … get me anything . ’
apologies aren’t sought out, nor are they in need – & all they do is convince sawyer she should be offering ones herself : for putting her boyfriend on the spot without the reminder that ANYBODY could’ve used. but neither of them should. not for something like this. not today. a small package, wrapped in silver parchment and a twisty bow taped on top, is scooped up and the space between them is closed for a second time. she hops up on the bed beside him, leaving her gift on the duvet between them. “ no, lou – i didn’t expect you to remember. ” the older begins. “ i mean, there’s not even like, an official, official date to remember. except now… maybe there could be. ” she shrugs, eye - contact abandoned and eyes drift to tinted nails ( soft peach, bordering on a pastel pink – another paint job long overdue. ) self - consciousness oughtn’t be a factor to any of this, but it is. it’s an emotion so suffocating sawyer disallows herself a moment’s breath, a girl rushing through the motions to justify and explain. “ and look, ” she starts again, small box brought up – rattling with each erratic movement. “ it’s tiny, practically nothing. ” another shrug. “ so don’t even worry about it. okay, just don’t. ” beat. “ because it’s totally not a big deal. i mean, most people don’t even celebrate the sixth month, anyway. it’s like, a total MIDDLE SCHOOL move on my part. ” a laugh, and she goes on. “ i don’t know, i just wanted to do something. ‘cos – ” inhale. “ i guess it’s a big deal to me. not the half - versary but… ” the pause that follows exposes her speech for its EXCESSIVE nature, to herself mostly, and a voice lowers an octave in response. “ you. ”
