#wc:223

[phthalovoid-blog]

(cw below cut: strangulation, death, violence)

Her heels click against the cobblestones as she walks. Back to her room, as long as she gets back to her room and collects herself... she will be fine.

...This was always what she wanted, wasn’t it? Regretted not being able to do the deed herself, to get her grand revenge. And now she’s gotten it. So why does she feel like this? Sick, uncertain. Trembling. Weak. She can’t be this soft anymore.

She collapses into bed, back in her rooms. Presses her face into a pillow and takes a deep breath. Deep breaths, Delilah. She imagines a hand on her back. Breanna’s, gentle and warm. Soothing. It’s on the third breath that she feels her throat close.

She tries to breathe in again, but there’s a pressure. An invisible hand round her throat, no matter how her nails claw at her throat, rending lines down it in her panic to get breath into her lungs again. She’s dizzy, lips parted in a hollow echo of a gasp for air. She almost wants to laugh, as she feels herself start to slip away.

What a joke. Normally, she would think that it was their captors, or an invisible enemy. Now, she can almost swear that she sees Jessamine, that it’s her hands choking the life from her.

She throws her head back and tries to laugh, her own fingers wrapping around her throat.

Looks like we’re not so different, she wants to say. Looks like you have a taste for revenge too.