@exfreak : “ i’ve prepared your bath. ” :)
the familiar lilt of his banter helps in part to loosen the tense thread of her muscles, to coax the frozen stiffness of her limbs to warmth. a smile flutters, butterfly-delicate and just as fleeting, before her gaze casts to the bathroom door. she should be happy. the worst was over, the storm had passed; she should feel like she can breathe again. but the remnants of that hell still clung to her—to her skin, her clothes, she thinks even her very soul still holds the stench of decay. her stomach turns sour at the thought—her soul had never been entirely clean to begin with. pearly whites worry a chapped lip between them, worsening a newly healed crack, and the ghost of her mother’s admonishment echoing in her mind snaps her out of the absentminded habit. quit biting your lip, chrissy. it’s not ladylike.
her quiet inhale is wind through a shuttered house, rattling through her lungs and shaking the cage of her ribs. when she spares a glance to eddie, she finds it suddenly less difficult to breathe. ❛ you won’t– ❜ she swallows the words, still so careful when she chooses them. ❛ will you…stay with me? ❜ thin arms wrap around her middle, as though so unsteady a grip might keep her broken pieces from falling apart. her voice is barely a whisper when she speaks. ❛ i don’t…i don’t want to be ALONE. ❜