Love Has Teeth Which Bite and The Wounds Never Close
The number came up without the accompaniment of a picture, nor a familiar face but something compelled him to answer regardless. Brows rose, furrowed ; face paled, flushed. Ciaran knew by the description offered but first, from the simple explanation that she was bleeding, his number clutched between red stained fingertips. There’s no one else it could be. She’s like a daydream, wrapped in the trappings of a nightmare, waiting for the moment he least expected her. He should have always know that she’d find him. If anyone could, if anyone would, it was her.
Ciaran dismisses himself from the front desk without asking for permission, only tossing some vague excuse over his shoulder at Jayden before the bell over the front door singles his departure. The hospital won’t do, he had told them - accompanied by the directions to his address and instructions to hurry, for fuck’s sake mate.
It’s been a long time, Harreh.
An old friend surfaces bittersweet through the usual static, purring at the memory of her bloodstained clothes. He only hopes that the three shots of whiskey will do something to take the edge off, instead of assist in providing another. He waits by the door, breath baited ; lungs threatening collapse. There’s a needle already threaded on the coffee table beside an opened bottle of whiskey. Safety first.
Tyler was half coherent as her body got shoved into the small cramped back seat of the car. In her mind her muscles were fighting off the large brick that managed to lift her fragile body into it. Even drunk and faded she felt the familiar turns of the ground. Harreh. Taking some comfort in the twists of the roads she let the darkness take hold. Nothing lingered for her inside of it. Her mind tucked itself into the emptiness until she felt her body dragged and slumped against a door.
If she could have kicked the guy tugging her ankles out of the back seat she would. Tyler was much better at dealing with her feelings from a distance. In the form of casual drive-bys to watch the creeping shadow of her life wander up the stairs. But now she was drunk and the blood that had been draining from her head had made its way into her shirt. The small droplets mixed with the dirt from the sidewalk and the tears she could never cry.
She felt her body collapse onto the floor as the door swung open. Her head collided with the floor sending a throbbing to her temple. Unaware of if the impact opened her eyes or she willed them that way she found herself staring up at the glistening light bulb. A smirk creased her face as she slurred, "Oh Harreh, you left the light on."
