10/27/10
a/n: take this how you want it. Additionally, if you happen to know me, please don't think I think this is anything close to quality. I've been avoiding writing my political science midterm for the past few days by churning out story after story, and well… I guess boredom is to blame. This is the only one of I've written during my writing streak to actually feel finished (note: this does not, I repeat not, mean well done, just that I have no intentions of further progress on this piece), and so… up it goes? Damn, this feels like an odd time to finally post something. Oh well!
Disclaimer: Haha, you really think anyone would leave me alone in a room with Chris Evans?
Like Rocks, Like Sand
She doesn't understand how their bodies could still fit so well together, like rocks that had been ground into sand and had been shook so violently that they lay flat, pressed together with the littlest of space between each particle…. And yet, they didn't. He didn't know her anymore; no matter how hard he tried to understand her - to understand her new power, her changed outlook. No one could go through what she had and stay the same, it simply wasn't possible. She knew that. She knew she was a different woman than she had been before, before it all… happened. Before the future had been made the past, in the worst of ways. Because at least death would have been final, death wouldn't leave an awkward aftertaste in her mouth and sour everything she once held so dear. Death would cause her sorrow, yes, but death wouldn't suffocate her, death wouldn't leave her feeling like the only thing she had thought she wanted no longer… existed. Like it was fake, false, imagined. It wasn't just that she couldn't have it, but that she didn't want it. Knowing she was done, it was over, but not how to let go. And that hurt worse than anything she had been through, this sense of not having anything to fight for. Anything to come home to.
Because he wasn't home anymore - at least not her home. He didn't give her comfort, didn't make her feel lighter or lightheaded or anything but low. He made her feel vicious, stuck in a place she didn't quite belong anymore.
Suddenly, the sand didn't feel so perfectly fitted to her, but like a thousand little shards of rock crushing down on her, sticking to her skin, preventing her from escaping. Suffocating her with their presence.
So she left.
She took her sand and pressed it between her hands until it reformed, reshaped into something hard, something that didn't settle into the crevices, something all her own. A rock.