Hi there...so this is me just going with my original plan and starting the next...well, chapter of Rose and Daryl's story. I decided I'm *also* going to write an alternate/extended ending to Complications to tie up some loose ends that left some feeling unsatisfied. :)
This can absolutely be a standalone if you haven't read Complications.
Wasn't planning on starting this tonight, just ended up in a grim mood and thought I'd go with it...your feedback is so loved.
Prologue
Rose had been humming, soft and quiet. Rocking and lulling, soothing and hugging herself.
She used to think she was underground. Nights and days and weeks, perhaps months had passed and she had no idea anymore.
She liked to stay curled up in the top corner of her bed-a dirty mattress and a thin yellow sheet-it reminded her of better days in the RV.
Half conscious some time ago, she had entertained herself with a lousy metaphor; her memories are oxygen. As long as she could breathe them, she'd be alright. So everyday she fought like hell to keep them fresh.
If she thought she was forgetting something important she would panic. Gasp for air and tremble until she either brought the memory back or passed out.
Every now and then, though, she'd think those thoughts poison. They infected her and tasted like hope on a dry tongue and she wanted none of it, because her hope vanished long ago.
But he'd always come back to her. There were times she actually believed him there. Could smell his earthy skin, taste the salt on his lips. Feel the muscles and scars on his back.
She recalled the first night she'd seen them. She had felt them before, of course, but decided she would never inquire how they came to be-she wanted him to feel comfortable enough to offer it up, and eventually he did.
She traced those scars with the lightest, most delicate touch. Kissed them tenderly. Tears fell from her eyes the whole time. And she couldn't comprehend how she had lived without him for so long. And she didn't understand how one human being could be so beautiful.
Anxiety seized her at the memory and she dug her ragged, overgrown nails into dirty palms. You must see him, now. Open your eyes and see his blue looking back.. You must…
