Soulwood Scribble: Last Meeting
I’m thinking of getting into the habit of posting non-canon and/or behind the scene writings as scribbles like I post (or am trying to post) thrown out bits as lost lines.
This is also prompted by flash fiction friday's prompt, "last time". This is 500 words of bitter information. Mostly prose, no dialogue (can you tell I don't like writing dialogue?) but there's quite a bit written between the lines here. Happy reading!
*****
The last time Keithia sees the vessel of her heart, neither of them speak. The air feels oppressive, like thick clouds on her tongue. There are words in there, pleas and apologies and explanations -- things she should say, probably. But there are clouds in her mouth and she is not strong enough to speak through the smog.
She tries to swallow it, fill her lungs with the water logged air but all of it is stuck in her throat, clogging her voicebox with the worst jumble of words she cannot bear to put to reality. The apologies beating at her ribs are true, aside from the fact that if things could be changed, Keithia wouldn’t change anything that fixes the gulf crammed in the small distance between them.
If time went back, Keithia is sure she’d sooner turn her away than lose everything just so she could keep her.
That knowledge sits heavy within her, heart mimicking the flat stone where their lips had first brushed each other, where Keithia’s grip on her own heart started to loosen, reaching for hers instead.
That had been a mistake, in hindsight.
She parts her lips to say something -- a goodbye that is not so heavy as the last, softer words not tainted by fear, but nothing comes. The only words bashing against her bones are untrue platitudes. She is not deserving of that, even now, with their past all marred in blood. She sighs instead and the girl she’s beginning not to love offers a tremulous smile.
It does not mend the gap any. Nothing would, Keithia thinks. She lifts her chin, keeping her eyes on the girl and not the surly boy behind her, tense and displeased. It was not Keithia’s idea, this, but the girl had approached her woods and Keithia could not let her enter, not anymore, not again.
She doesn't know why she came, what she thinks there was to gain from this. She scowls and narrows her eyes, a silent threat for her to leave. She was not welcome anymore.
There is something brimming in the girl’s eyes, something tumultuous and lost. Her face falls a little, eyes still cold, still chilled by that night, by choices both of them made. Her chin lowers and she turns, accepting Keithia’s hostility, remembering it too, perhaps, unwilling to fight it.
Keithia drops her shoulders and stares at her retreating back. A part of her heart not yet stoned off trembles. Is she really letting it end like this?
What other way was there? Their convictions were known and shaping everything into words would not remake all the horrors that tore them apart. Everything they needed to know was known and breath would not reshape anything into anything that changes this. This is how things were and this was how it was all doomed to end.
Maybe it was good, though, to see her again. When things were more peaceful and her vision was clear.
Maybe that’s why she came.
*****
I quite like this, actually. And yes, I am way too proud that it's 500 words exact, I wasn't watching word count at all so it was a happy surprise :D
Tagging: @flashfictionfridayofficial @caffeinewitchcraft @super-writer-gal @drippingmoon @amberskywrites @notwritinganyflufftoday @blindthewind
