Sorry again my loves! Thanx sooo much fer the support, fer sum reason I hav a knack for writing depressively so hopefully im conveying the emotions right ! thanx again for putting up with my slow updates! ! ill get better over the summer I hope!
Since Lily's consent of friendship with Miley, she noticed she'd been inevitably tricked. She encountered the brunette every day. In fact, every morning, the girl would come up, bouncing in her steps, and sitting daintily on a spare porch chair, sharing a pointless conversation she justified as bonding. Strangely enough, the blonde couldn't feel annoyance at it. As much as she tried to despise the airy voice, shut out the outspoken personality, and brush off the ongoing benevolence; she couldn't find it in herself.
So her muddled thoughts brought her, at four in the morning, to the arms of her oak tree. Here, she could hear the wind whispering to her. She frequented this place by the night, struggling to listen to his vicarious speeches. I see you with her. You smile like with me. Do you even remember me? Do you even remember me Lillian?
"Yes, I could never forget you. You know I'll never forget you." She cried out at the accusations of her loyalty.
It was silent, as the wind processed and thought. Then why do you like her? Why do you like her Lillian? Why are you letting her take my place?
"She isn't taking your place. I still love you. I miss you. Why did you leave me? Why? Why wasn't I enough for you?"
The wind was silent. It was a question she asked as many times as she dared. But it was never answered; simply because the discussion was a figment of her conflicting subconscious. And this being the case, since she had no answers herself, no answer was furnished. Now the tears, which were so rare in her eyes, were pouring out and over her shirt and face. Her eyes were growing red, her breathing labored, and suddenly the glimmer in her hands was highlighted by the moon. It was a knife.
Before she could focus her mind to unite with her will, she felt the flesh of her thigh being torn by a merciless blade. She could not blame her hand for the felony. It was her mind, it was nature. He was punishing her. He was getting in her head. He was reminding her that she was still bound to him by helpless love. She was still his property. And as the salt of her tears fell and burned the open slits of her wounds, and the red of her blood stained and dried on her skin and clothes, she laughed a cynical laugh (the laugh he would produce if he could see this) and her eyes closed for a restless sleep.
When Lily awoke is was to a blast of frigid wind. And as she surveyed her mangled figure, her eyes grazed the spots of her bruises and cuts and a rendition of the pain surged through her. And then, a rhythm of steady footsteps deflected off the gravel of her pathway. It was her. It must be close to five in the morning. Lily yawned heavily; sleep still swarming in her eyes and muscles.
The realization that she was still lying in the arms of her oak came to her as she nearly tumbled out of the great grasp. Her legs were wobbly as she soundlessly landed on the ground, her grace sacrificed for her silence. Yet Miley, whose eyes were rapidly searching and whose ears were conditioned by children, saw and heard her and walked over to her.
"Oh Lily, good morning, where were you? You look awful." She spoke her thoughts unconsciously, as she stared through the darkness at the disheveled girl.
"I… um… well I was sitting in that tree." She pointed upward, no longer trying to hide that she was in her oak. In fact, if Miley were to find the inflictions on her leg, she'd have to describe them somehow.
"You were sitting in a tree at five in the morning? Doing wh- Oh my God! What happened to your leg?" Record Time. Thankfully her prior question had been abandoned. Lily thought.
"Well I suppose I got scratched by the branches." Her voice was tentative, begging for belief and confidence. But, as was life's way of screwing good things, the streetlight chose such a time to shine a fervent flash on the knife that lay on the surface of the frayed grass. It fell from her hands while she was sleeping. Miley gasped as fate drew her eyes to the object, and Lily followed the gaze. A sudden churning came to her stomach.
Miley's eyes traveled up Lily's legs. Up to the start of her short shorts, where her cuts began and covered her upper thighs.
"Lily, no, tell me it was the tree. Tell me it was the tree branches." Lily looked down, but Miley could see the dried blood on her shirt and on her tucked-together hands. There was a taunting scarlet ribbon on the knife's edge. And it was noticed.
"Lily, please tell me you didn't do this to yourself." She never lifted her sight from the earth, but she could feel Miley's eyes on her.
"SAY SOMETHING!"
"Miley, maybe you should leave now."
"No, no, no, not after this. Not after this. You have to talk to me." She began to hyperventilate.
"Please, calm down and leave." Miley's eyes were hurt. "Maybe you can come back tomorrow. I just need some time, okay?"
"Lily I don't wanna leave after seeing this. We're friends, you can talk to me."
"Just please go. Later okay? We'll discuss this later."
"Fine. Just, please take care of yourself." Her voice was laced with disappointment, but she knew there was no point in fighting with stubbornness.
Lily sat on her porch chair, stirring her coffee unnecessarily. It was way past five am, and Miley hadn't come. She knew she'd scared the little bundle of joy away. Somehow, she missed her. She missed their awkwardly simple conversations. She felt a kind of disappointment she was only used to feeling with him. It shouldn't be disappointing not to see Miley. It shouldn't be. But it was.
Deciding that she needed a distraction, she walked down to her favorite nook in the woods, and watched over the horizon.
She'd spent but a minute playing her eyes over the limpid stream and the glistening sun before a patterned rhythm padded the Earth. And yet, odd as it was with Miley, there was silence until she felt the girl sit beside her, tucking her knees to her chest and meeting her gaze over the water.
The question sat feverishly between them, daring one of them to pierce the silence with it. It wouldn't be Lily. A full ten minutes was spent simply in the presence of one another, before Miley finally mustered the courage to speak. She drew in a shaky breath.
"What happened yesterday Lily?" Her voice was calm and emotionless, and her eyes never left the water.
"Miley, when I said we'll talk later, I implied that we should forget about it."
"I can't, I've thought about it since it happened. What the hell was going through your head?"
"This doesn't concern you Miley and I'd appreciate if you'd leave it alone."
"I can't." It came out as a whisper and Lily had to look to her face to see her lips moving. And as she did so, she was met with strong green eyes. They held an unreadable cloudiness. Something in them begged for understanding and trust, yet another was so afraid of the truth.
"Why not?" She almost didn't mean the harshness, and felt instant regret when she saw the pain in Miley's eyes.
"Because we're friends, and friends care about each other Lily." At this, Lily was taken aback. There was a determined kindness in her; it was admirable, but so very foreign to the blonde. There was a time when she heard this care in his voice, but it dissolved long before she realized how much she took it for granted.
"Lil, talk to me sweetheart." The duo sat on Oliver's bed, his arm around her waist, and his fingers intertwined with hers.
"Please sweetie, I've never seen you so upset." His voice was so understanding, pleading to be trusted, and his shoulder was so strong. She could cry on it any day. She sunk into his grip, and smelt his warm smell, feeling his deep voice vibrate through his chest.
He took his free hand and brushed the hair out of her eyes, giving her a smile that said 'you're so beautiful' even though she knew she mustn't be. Her eyes were red and puffy and her nose was runny. She couldn't look good. But he thought she was beautiful.
"Dad said we can't be together Ollie. He says it isn't right, that you aren't good for me. He says you don't love me and you can't handle commitment. And he says after high school, he's moving us."
"Aw baby, why did he say that?"
"Remember when your mom used to drink?"
"Now Lil, that was just because my dad left us. She was stressed and she drank and she was an alcoholic. But she spent two years in rehab and detox camps. She's clean, you know that."
"Dad says you come from a bad home. And you'll turn out like your mom." She sniffled back a fresh set of tears.
"I don't wanna…sniff… leave… sniff … you… cough… Ollie." She hugged him tighter, as tight as she could, as he lifted her onto his lap and enveloped her in a suffocated embrace.
"Do you wanna be with me?" She thought about it. She'd never wanted anything more in her seventeen years of life. She nodded.
"Then I won't let him take you sweetheart. Dad left me a trust fund with enough money for college and more. You'll turn eighteen soon and then you'll be legally free from them. We'll go and live somewhere, I'll buy an apartment. Where do you wanna live?"
She chuckled and a small smile came on her face. "I wanna live in Malibu!"
He gave his own smile. "Well Malibu it is baby." And at that moment, she never felt safer than in his arms. She buried her face in his shaggy hair, and he held her in comfortable silence.
"Lily? Lily?" Miley's voice had moved into a little irritation.
"I'm sorry, what?" Lily said innocently, shaking her head from her distractions.
"Were you even listening?"
"I… um… I don't think so, I apologize."
"You just zoned out there Lily. What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing." She said quickly.
Miley sighed. "When are you going to start talking to me?"
"We are talking." Lily stated matter-of-factly.
"You know what I'm talking about. Why don't you trust me?"
"Trust is a fragile thing, Miley. I've known you for something of two months. I don't give away my trust. I appreciate my privacy. Can't you accept that?"
At that moment, Miley turned to make it obvious that she was staring at Lily. No longer was she stealing glances, and she reached to put her hand on Lily's shoulder. To this, Lily almost flinched, but contained herself for fear of further questioning.
"Listen to me sweetheart, when you hurt yourself… with knives, privacy can't be respected. Lily, honestly, I've always had a little worry for you. But now, I'm very worried. What if you cut your wrist next time? And you bled to death? Or your neck?" She had begun hyperventilating again, her hand still atop Lily's shoulder, and her eyes clouded with anxiety. Lily couldn't pull her mind off of the word sweetheart.
They spent a moment simply looking in each other's eyes, equally searching for any spot of what each other were thinking. "Miley, I should go." Lily said simply, and she yanked herself from under Miley's hand and stood up.
"No! No Lily, not this time! You need to talk to someone. And you are gonna talk to me. I won't leave you alone till you do." As she said this, she grabbed a handful of Lily's shirt and then her shoulders to turn her around.
"Miley-" She began annoyed.
Miley's grip on her shoulders moved down, and she was now holding Lily's left wrist tightly. To this clutch, Lily struggled, but the hold was surprisingly strong and relentless.
"Sit down." Like a child, Lily shook her head defiantly. "Yes. Sit down." Lily knew the other girl was bigger than her, and clearly stronger. So, she submitted to the will, and sat down with an angry scowl.
"Talk to me." With those words, Lily felt a juvenile idea strike her. She could just get up and run away. That used to be her copout when she was young. But she was twenty three now, and immaturity of that sort would simply make her look stupid.
Lily sighed and looked into the brunette's emerald orbs.
"Miley," She started, and her voice was so meager and weak that Miley could hardly believe it was hers. It genuinely sounded as though Lily was going to talk. Her eyes were misty, her body was limp and impostured; she looked unbelievably young, like a helpless child. And at this, Miley wanted to hug her, but refrained.
"Go on honey, tell me what's a matter."
At hearing this, dubbed in all the care that was Miley, Lily couldn't hold it back.
"I can't do this." She hiccupped back a tear, and before Miley could register a reaction, the blonde was gone.
"Fuck." She muttered under her breath, and laid back into the grass, watching the fading figure of her friend.