#letroadec

[olive-1x1]

heart half-full, but still i spill // emmett + eve

Emmett strikes the match in his hand against the flimsy cardboard of the box it came from. The tip fizzles and sparks, a flame blooming before his eyes. He brings it to the end of the spliff hanging out of his mouth and it crackles as it burns. Emmett inhales deeply, letting his head fall back against the brick wall behind him. The only light around was a dim streetlamp, otherwise he was surrounded by the darkness of the night. He distractedly watches the moths and tiny insects swarm and erratically fly around the light. He normally wasn't one to smoke, but he had run into Eros earlier in the day, who had looked him up and down once before blurting out: "You look awful, Clermont. Need a pick me up?" Emmett glared at him, but snatched the spliff out from behind his ear anyways.

It was true - he did look awful and he felt it too. His hands are shaking as he smokes but as the moments pass, they became more and more still. A delightfully thick fog was coating his brain and he relished this feeling - like he wasn't in his body anymore, but floating directly above it. However, the relief does not last long. Whenever his eyes drift close, all Emmett can see behind them is Tillie - her furious expression, the sound of her yelling, the deep depths of pain behind her eyes. It wasn't any better when his eyes were open either. All alone. Without her.

Emmett lowers his head into his hands, the spliff rolling out from between his fingers and he begins to cry softly. A sickening idea burrows itself into his brain - Pain always tethers him to reality - Emmett scrambles for the matchbox, striking one up again. He stares at it for way too long, considering bringing the flame to his skin, but it burns down to his fingertips before he can even make that decision. Suddenly, there's a hand on his shoulder and he jerks away from it, whirling around to see who it is, face wet with tears. "Oh." Emmett hates how dejected he sounds, bites the inside of his cheek. "Hey Eve......"

[olive-1x1]

lucid dreaming // self para // plot drop 001

Emmett awoke that morning with a sense of dread hanging over his head. An uncomfortable paranoia had seated itself in his psyche as night after night, he dreamt of his own death. He lies awake in bed, letting the fog clear from his head. The archer at the edge of the woods was getting closer and closer to him in each dream. Emmett rolls over, fumbling around for his water cup with half-closed, sleepy eyes. His fingers brush the coldness of the glass and while attempting to grasp it, it tumbles from the nightstand, hitting the hardwood and breaking. Emmett slaps his hand against his forehead, groaning in exasperation. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Emmett carefully places his feet down next to the pile of broken glass. Gingerly, he begins to pick up the pieces. Despite his efforts, a sharp edge still knicks his finger, cutting him open. Emmett draws in a quick breath, dropping the glass in his hands. Blood runs down his hand, dripping onto the floor.

Throughout the day, there were more unsettling occurrences - a thunderstorm rolls in, even though there wasn't one in the forecast.

A dead bird in his path.

Spiderweb cracks on the bathroom mirror that weren't there before.

Emmett tries to outrun the creeping anxiety, but it lurks all around him. Like someone or something that is just out of sight is right on his heels at all times. The storm rages on outside.

Somehow, he makes it through the day unscatched, yet the uneasiness in him is only growing stronger. Emmett stays up late reading, determined to fight sleep off for as long as he can. He wasn't exactly looking forward to another night of bad dreams. Every time his eyelids droop, Emmett jerks himself awake again and it goes on like this for awhile. Inevitably, however, sleep takes him - the book in his hands falling flat against the bed.

--

He wakes up in that same field, but this time when his eyes scan the treeline, it is not the archer whose standing there, but a hauntingly beautiful woman. She is moving her mouth, as if she is calling out to him, but Emmett hears nothing. His gaze is hypnotically fixed on her. Slowly, she begins to glide towards him - her feet a few inches off the ground, floating through the air. She stretches her hand out towards him. She is singing something to him. The melody infests his brain, bogging his thoughts down.

This is the part of the dream where he would normally run, but Emmett is paralyzed. Rooted to his spot on the grass. The woman is hovering above him in mere seconds, inches from his body. "The flame. My flame" she whispers, her mouth does not move now. Emmett can only hear it in his mind. "I found it. I found you." she coos, terrifyingly sweet. Emmett's whole body trembles. He tries to lift his arm - dead as a rock. His leg - no luck. The woman's hands suddenly shoot towards him, gripping his shoulders. Emmett winces in pain as her nails bite into his skin. Her hands are ice cold. When their eyes meet again, Emmett begins to scream. The woman standing before him now was a corpse - skin rotting off, bones poking through, ash covering her body as if she had been badly burned. The woman's long cascading hair was completely gone, bits of her brain showing through the cracks in her skull. "You have to take me to him! You have to -"

Just then, the dream shatters and Emmett awakes, screaming, shrinking away from a threat that is no longer there. He swings his arms wildly as if to fight the woman off, but the woman is gone. He is alone in his room. Sweating. Panting. In the dark.

[olive-1x1]

afraid to make contact // emmett + acacia

Emmett knows he's been laying in bed all day - the light in the room changes slowly but surely, yet he stays the same. On his back, staring up at the ceiling. Emmett has maybe gotten up a handful of times for water or to go to the bathroom, but he really hasn't eaten much and can't stand to be awake for very long. It's foolish how desolate he had become after his argument with Tillie, but it's not just Tillie is it? It's him, too. It's the curly-headed, soft-spoken heartbreak of the past just as much. A newfound understanding of their situation eating Emmett alive - he realizes now how Sasha must have felt - how he must have made him feel. Emmett has not been able to get up from underneath the weight of it all. He glances towards the window - sunset. He sighs, rolling over to face the wall so he doesn't have to contend with how late it's getting.

What Emmett wouldn't give for Acacia to be by his side right now - her face flashes through his brain vividly - soft, confident, reassuring. Something about her energy was so incredibly stabilizing for him. She felt like family to him, in some strange way. The older sibling he never had to coach him through life. Tears well up in his eyes again - god, he's been so lost for so long with no guidance. His eyes drift shut and his subconscious wanders, almost involuntarily so, conjuring up images he feels he has no control over. Bright, brief flashes of someone walking the hallway. Rounding a corner and then another. Approaching a door, raising a hand to knock. Emmett's eyes fly open. "Acacia." he says quietly, nearly in disbelief. Seconds later, there's a knock at his bedroom door. He scrambles off the bed, rushing to the door to see if he had been right all along - and there she was. Emmett pauses for a moment in shock. How did she know to come here? Had she felt him thinking about her? Emmett is well aware of the tears on his face, but he is immediately enamored by what just happened. "How did you...." he swallows hard. "I mean, did you......?" Emmett shakes his head, realizing he probably looks absolutely ridiculous right now. "I'm - I'm so happy to see you right now." his voice cracks with tears - he can't hold it together any longer seeing her face now.