NON-SEXUAL ACTS OF DOMINANCE . *// NO LONGER ACCEPTING.
[ calm ] — your muse telling mine to ❛ just breathe ❜ .
far easier said than done —miss molly o’shea was a woman who would K N O W . too many times before had her anxiety and GRIEF gotten the b e t t e r of her , sucked the air right out of lungs and left her w i n d e d . tonight was N O exception . the HAUNTING image of kieran duffy r e p l a y e d itself over and OVER again in her mind . the blood and gore , the b a r b a r i c way in which his head was held in his H A N D S . she didn’t know the feller too well , was neither too fond of him nor too sour — but what she DID know was that he was a g e n t l e man , and did not DESERVE the heinous hand he had been so u n f a i r l y dealt .
perhaps that was W H Y she was so deeply a f f e c t e d by his DEATH . it brought upon the h a r s h realisation that they were NO LONGER SAFE , and they that were k n o c k i n g on HEAVEN’S door . that even the most innocent were at r i s k of falling victim to C R U E L intentions . her h e a r t goes out to jack and abigail , to tilly and to mary-beth . PERHAPS even karen and reverend swanson — no matter H O W much those two grind her gears . they were the f e w with no BLOOD on their hands , and yet , were the most vulnerable .
lukewarm tears rolling down rosy , freckled cheeks . a white handkerchief held tightly in t r e m b l i n g hands . heart aching with each AGONISING convulsion . the woman with the rose-coloured hair looks to the man beside her , utmost d e s p a i r in her sage eyes as she T R I E S to shift her thoughts elsewhere . to E R A S E the image of kieran , to rid of her w o r r i e s , to stop frightening herself with the FUTURE .
with ARTHUR , she feels safe . a man whose promises are never e m p t y , she knows she can T R U S T him . that he will protect them ALL from harm’s way , and to the very BEST of his ability . nothing l e s s . and as she studies his face for a moment , her pained cries diminish s l o w l y into silence — broken only every few moments by a series of feeble whines as she f i n a l l y begins to get oxygen back in her lungs , as she finally begins to J U S T B R E A T H E . with fiery , untamed curls fallen in her face , the s o f t e s t of sighs slips from between cracked , rouge lips . ❛ —yer not going to let them o’driscolls c a t c h up with us . . . G E T U S . ❜
