Horizon
Beta'ed and/or revised by;
Contradicting-Whispers
Bms111
Heather-Shadelight
My most heartfelt thanks.
— O —
2009 October, that Saturday. Sarah's House.
The click of the door shutting close rang like thunder in the silence the pair found themselves in, silence that was quickly broken by Sarah giving Taylor a small, encouraging smile and tugging at her forearm slightly, somehow avoiding all the bruises and tender spots found there, her digits soft and warm. "My room is this way. I'll find you something for the pain, okay?"
Taylor nodded, the tangled ball of emotion that sat in her chest pulsing in discomfort and shame at being so completely useless, at being unable to just hide her pain for a single, meager day, managing to worry her friend and at the same time impose into her house. She felt like an intruder, but at the same time not, because Sarah was at her side and this was her home and she has been the one to invite her but the stupid feeling that told her that she didn't belong wouldn't just go away!
She tried to not think about how her hand felt nice in her arm, or how she could move it just a bit downwards if she wanted to-
She slammed that train of thought like a beartrap snapping a young deer's leg, casting away the remnants and focusing on anything else but her companion, focusing on how Sarah had been nothing but accomodating to her stupid self and was even offering something to make the experience of being a living, walking bruise a bit more bearable and not how nice her skin fel-
What the fuck is wrong with you?
She tried, she really tried to not be weird or creepy or stare but it was so hard. Sarah's hand on her pained forearm had been the only form of not necessarily positive contact, but non-aggressive nonetheless that she had had since Mom's death, where Emma started to drift apart from her and she had grown closer to Sarah.
She could almost feel her pinky brushing against her wrist and palm and it was so soft but so wrong. She was her only friend, she shouldn't be thinking about her that way, about how warm her skin was. Even if she was pretty, she was not. She was a stick that walked and little else, more skin and bones and hard angles than soft curves and supple flesh.
The click of another door opening and then closing softly behind her snapped Taylor out of her musings, and she turned to look at Sarah, who was in turn staring at her with a clinical eye and a glint in her look.
Her room was spacious, that was the best adjective she could come up with. It had a lot of space; a wide bed, a chair with a desk with her computer, wide and clean windows that let in rays of natural sunlight and a pair of doors, one slightly open that apparently showed a bathroom by the looks of it. The other door was closed, so she could only guess what was inside. Maybe a closet?
"You can leave your backpack at the foot of the bed, if you want?"
Taylor nodded and shed her cargo. The thing had started to dig at her shoulders and it was starting to pass the uncomfortable levels straight into painful ones. She didn't really have that much, just a couple of changes of clothes just in case, some books and some toiletries just in case, too.
Sarah clapped softly, making Taylor jump and snap her head in Sarah's direction. A shadow of emotion flashed across the blonde's face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. She took her hand – soft… – and guided her to the edge of the bed, her hand leaving hers with a sense of loss once the contact stopped and pushing down on Taylor's shoulders slightly, sitting her on the bed.
"I'll be back in a minute, okay? I'll go get some ice and something for the pain. Be right back!"
She left before Taylor could say anything, so she leaned back into the bed and– oh. That, that was a soft mattress. She sunk her hands in and it almost hugged her digits back as they sank into the material.
Without meaning to, she leaned back bit by bit until her back was touching the thing completely, and she couldn't help the sigh that immediately fled her lips. It was akin to what she imagined how laying down in a cloud would feel like.
She was… tired. The panic attack from earlier, her own emotions playing with her head, her own nascent instincts that screamed at her that something was wrong and she should be alert. It was too much stress in too little a time.
Before she knew it, her mind pulled the memory of Sarah's hand on her chin, and Taylor's eyes fluttered close.
— X —
Sarah left her friend in her room, heart hammering her a mile a minute, shame crashing down on her shoulders like the hammer of a particularly angry god that specifically hated her guts, and how could it not?
Her friend was hurt, in pain and almost wincing at the slightest of touches near her bruises and here she was trying and failing to not think about how good her hand had felt in hers, even for that short moment.
She knew how Taylor was, blabbermouth incorrigible that once she gained some form of traction would be impossible to shut up about whatever topic she had chosen to obsess over that day, be it literature or history, cape culture or world events, or simply how tea absolutely was superior in every form to coffee and how Sarah was a heathen for daring to think otherwise.
But all that hadn't prepared her for how pretty she was.
Arsenic eyes that took everything in with a flash of curiosity for everything and anything that held her attention, curly midnight black hair that reached the middle of her back, swaying slightly with even the most mild breeze in a way that should on itself have a Master rating, long legs that seemed to go on forever even now when she hadn't finished growing up, and a wide, expressive mouth that made the most radiant smile she had ever seen.
She wondered how those lips felt-
No! She's your friend!
She held her head in her hands with a whimper, having reached the kitchen a minute ago and posing down her elbows in the granite aisle in the middle of the room for support.
She could almost hear her parents whispering in her ear, how what she felt wasn't natural, wasn't good, wasn't right or ethical or moral or a million other fucking things!
She chuckled in a self-depreciative manner, this situation proving to herself once more how Taylor was too good for her, how she deserves someone better than Sarah Livsey, egoistical, self-centered idiot. Here she was, obsessing over feelings that on top of being wrong never would be reciprocated when Taylor was hurt and she should be looking for the ice gel and not obsessing over stupid, inconsequential things like how she felt.
Once she found the damn things – and they were cold – she went upstairs as quickly as she could without bowling over and having a particularly bloody date with the floor, all the while shoving down and aside her own thoughts and feelings as best as she could, managing to restrain them even if only slightly.
She opened the door to her room, and immediately all the air rushed out of her lungs not unlike if she had been gutpunched, her fingers digging painfully in the packs of gel.
She couldn't tear her eyes away from the figure laying on her bed, a blanket of black hair sprawled around the mattress, her hoodie rolled up slightly and showing a hint of stomach that had her breath cutting short and heat blooming on her cheeks.
All of that was washed away with cold fury when it rolled up a little more, and the whisper of a bruise could be almost seen, covered by the fabric. She approached the bed with gritted teeth, hesitating for a moment before laying a hand on Taylor's cheek and shooking her slightly while speaking as softly as she could to not startle her but still wake her up, it was a careful balance.
"Taylor. Hey, Taylor, I need you to wake up. Come on sleepyhead…"
She mumbled something in her sleep, and Sarah's brain short circuited when she started nuzzling her hand, trapping it between the mattress and Taylor. She couldn't help but caress her face for a moment before she snapped out of it, and she repeated what she said in a slightly higher tone.
Thankfully, this time Taylor seemed to hear her, if the blearily blinking eyes behind askew glasses were anything to go by. "Wha'?"
Sarah smiled, a small little thing. "Come on, I need to apply some ice to those bruises. Up you go."
Taylor got into a seating position from where she was, legs hanging out from the edge of the bed and grumbling in an intelligible manner.
Sarah started tugging at the hem of Taylor's hoodie, getting it out of her and sucking in a breath between her teeth when she saw the state of her arms beneath the cloth, the short sleeved black shirt she wore underneath protecting her torso from Sarah's searching gaze.
She was a mess. She could see at least a dozen little bruises in each arm, with one or two being bigger than the rest and colored a light shade of purple in the center instead of yellow with just a hint of the darker color, like the rest.
Taylor swayed slightly until Sarah sat at her side, her head immediately moving in her direction and finding a resting place in her shoulder, making Sarah's breath hitch for a moment, her eyes closing once more and her glasses almost falling out of her. She reached with two fingers and plucked the item from the bridge of her nose, leaving them in the nightstand so they didn't fall and break. Taylor mumbled something and almost seemed to fall asleep once again.
She took one of her arms with all the care in the world, and – she couldn't bring herself to press the iced pack against her skin, as peaceful as she looked right now without her glasses and her hair disheveled from her short nap. She just couldn't, it would wake her up and be uncomfortable for her and – and she was weak. She couldn't do it, bring herself to make her friend uncomfortable like that, even if it was illogical and in the long term, the smart option.
She left the packs in the floor, uncaring of what happened to them, and pushed Taylor once more towards the bed, intent on tucking her in so she had a restful sleep instead of a nightmare of a back pain once she woke up like she would have had, had she slept in that horrible position she found her in.
Between how little she weighed and little coaxing touch, she was beneath the blankets in no time and Sarah couldn't help but admire her once more, even if she shouldn't.
A guilty, rogue hand sneaked up to her friend's face, admiring the softness of her skin beneath her hands and how warm she felt, and for a moment, she let herself bask in the moment, in the sensation.
Then she pulled away with a more acute sense of loss than before, intent on leaving Taylor to her rest and well deserved relaxation when a hand grabbed hers the moment she started to pull away. It was a soft, almost breeze-like touch, one she could easily break with nary an effort.
She didn't.
"Stay," she mumbled, and Sarah couldn't bring herself to say no. Taylor mumbled some more, something that sounded suspiciously like, "don't leave," and "not like Emma."
Emma? Wasn't that Taylor's other friend?
A small spark, just an idle thought entered her mind. What if Emma had done this, or encouraged someone else to do it?
No, no. She shouldn't think about people close to Taylor that way, even if she was jealous of her for living in the same city as Taylor.
But why would she mention something like that?
Because she did the same thing as you, whispered a part of her mind, and she couldn't help but close her eyes at the familiar sense of guilt stabbing her chest and squirming inside her ribcage like a living thing.
Taylor's hand grabbed her more firmly, tugging weakly in the direction of the bed, and Sarah couldn't bring herself to deny her.
She left her footwear on the floor and crawled inside the bedsheets, her friend's arms immediately circling around her in search of warmth, Taylor's head coming to rest near her chest.
She couldn't help but start rubbing Taylor's scalp with her fingertips, little mumbling sounds coming out of the sleeping beauty's mouth.
Her body heat was soothing on her nerves, and Sarah found her eyes fluttering closer and closer to completely shut with each passing second.
Well, she thought to herself. I can be selfish for a little while…
Her dreams were plagued by arsenic green.