DATE&TIME: february 15th, 2:00am LOCATION: starlight carnival remains STATUS: closed for @anoracle
it is not pride, not ego that has the boy brushing off doctors and helping hands, choosing instead to let the snow be a salve to the angry burns that runs along skin, that runs alongside scars. lifts his hand up and sees the pink of flesh exposed, digs fingers into it and doesn’t wince, calls it a numbing of the wind and not of the body to things that should have hurt a long time ago.
“looks bad, ‘innit?” words are half-slurred, not looking up as the girl approaches, no need to when he knows the soft footsteps that keep turning back to him when they shouldn’t.
(please don’t go where i can’t follow but not like this, not like this; she shouldn’t have followed and he shouldn’t have pulled - )
girl said once that she could lose him in the snow. boy no longer silver, now half-burnt, half eaten through and left a charring, finally has a burning that matches what’s been under skin; boy soot, ash, half-decimated thing like he was meant to be. girl said once that she could lose him in the snow, and as emme approaches, how he wishes it was so.
“what’re you doing there, emme?” eyelashes flutter closed, catching snowflakes at the tips before melting on cheeks, before boy opens eyes to have gazes as burnt as skin looking at her. “you weren’t supposed t’be there - or here, either.”
