49 you’re a terrible liar
54 talk to me
For the angst fluff prompts ❤️
This is what happens when you can’t stop being pretentious.
(Set in s2)
49. You're a terrible liar & 50. Talk to me
lol that’s what happens when you watch too many artsy movies in one day.
In her dreams they actually talk. Have long conversations. That’s how Beth can tell she’s dreaming.
They began after he shot Dean, the turbulence of taking care of yet another human being fully exhausting her to the bone and those moments of total peace Beth thought she could have, which is obviously falling asleep, they were tainted now by his lanky frame and long fingers sliding through her face.
The first where he really talked came to her by night after he taught her how to shoot. Before that, all he used to do was to take the golden gun from her hand and shoot it at Dean, over and over and over, the three of them locked inside her house with no exit. Dean never bleeds, Rio never lowers the gun and she can’t stop gasping for air.
But now he speaks and the only thing he says, whispering in her ear, is: You’re a terrible liar. When she wakes up in the morning she tries to shake it up, her façade already shattered in a thousand sharp pieces the moment she, in the middle of the night, admits to his handsome face that she can’t lie to him. That his presence is so overbearing that she can’t properly sleep. Even if that was true, that she couldn’t shut her brain, Beth kept to herself that he’s already invading her subsconscious.
After they slept together, it got way worse. The Rio in her head wanted to have conversations. They consisted mostly of him doing a monologue full of dirty talk. You’re so tight, Elizabeth. Look at you, so ready to take my cock. I’m gonna come inside you.
But the night she made the rushed decision to sleep with Dean again, after she upped her hand to him and took 50% of the pills operation, he pleaded to her while fucking her in the dream: Talk to me.
When she woke up in the morning, her words still lingered behind her closed lids, full phrases she’d never let herself leave her lips. And those will hunt her awake, asleep, and specially the moment when she’ll be holding that golden gun –same one he taught her– between her hands, bullets already fired.
I want you.
I need you.
I wish I could lie to you.
