For the first day of #HyarethWeek
Hurt/Comfort - Because I think Hyacinth would always find comfort and resolution in Gareth's arms when things got tough! 🤎
Thinking about this, and this part of SZA's song, this story came to mind. It could be more in-depth, but I'm tired and sleepy. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.
Sensitive content warning about a miscarried pregnancy
Aviso de conteúdo sensível sobre gravidez interrompida
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Open Arms - One Shot
August 9th would always be a long day for Hyacinth. Even if she tried to distract herself by visiting her siblings or playing with her nephews, at some point she would remember the day she woke up in excruciating pain and, upon seeing the pool of blood forming on her sheets, knew she had lost her son.
It had been two years, but the memories didn't seem any less painful that day. For how could she not think of the pain of seeing a dream fade away? How could she not bleed emotionally remembering it year after year?
For this reason, she decided to politely decline Benedict's invitation to tea and stay home. But what would she have to do here without Gareth?
He had been away for a few days, and without him, her mind was wandering into dangerous territory. It was one of those thoughts, of missing the son she could never hold in her arms, that brought tears to her eyes as she lay alone on the sofa after lunch. But before sadness could completely overwhelm her, she heard the door creak.
As silly as it was, his voice alone was enough to make her cry even harder.
"I'm here." She tried to shout with the little voice she had left that wasn't choked with tears.
It was only a few seconds before he appeared before her and instantly embraced her. Feeling him, breathing in his scent, Hyacinth was grateful to have those arms open to her when she was lost. And when they looked at each other, when he kissed her in a comforting and consoling way, she knew he had appeared there precisely because he knew she was lost and needed to find her. He was the only person capable of finding her that way, after all.
Versão brasileira.
9 de agosto sempre seria um dia longo para Hyacinth. Ainda que ela tentasse se distrair indo visitar os irmãos ou brincando com os sobrinhos, em algum momento ela lembraria do dia em que acordou com uma dor infernal e, ao ver a poça de sangue que se formava em seus lençois, sabia que tinha perdido seu filho.
Já fazia dois anos, mas as lembranças não pareciam menos dolorosas naquele dia. Pois como não pensar na dor de ver um sonho se esvair? Como não sangrar emocionalmente relembrando isso ano após ano?
Por esse motivo, ela decidiu gentilmente recusar o convite de um chá com Benedict e ficar em casa. Mas o que teria para fazer aqui sem Gareth?
Fazia alguns dias que ele havia viajado e, sem ele, sua mente acabava ocupando terrenos perigosos. Era um desses pensamentos, da falta do filho que nunca pôde segurar nos braços, que encheu seus olhos d'água quando ela deitara no sofá a sós após o almoço. Mas antes mesmo que a tristeza a tomasse mais completamente, ela escutou o ranger da porta.
Por mais bobo que fosse, somente a voz dele já foi o suficiente para fazê-la chorar ainda mais.
— Estou aqui. — Ela tentou gritar com o pouco da voz que não era sufocada pelo choro.
Foram poucos os segundos até ele aparecer para ela e instantaneamente abraçá-la. Sentindo-o, aspirando seu cheiro, Hyacinth agradeceu por poder ter aqueles braços abertos para ela quando ela se perdia. E quando se olharam, quando ele a beijou de uma maneira confortável e consoladora, ela sabia que ele tinha aparecido ali exatamente por saber que ela estava perdida e ele precisava achá-la. Ele era a única pessoa capaz de achá-la daquela maneira, afinal.