Lisa Bortiforte
She/Her
31
August 30
Camphrier Town, Kalos
Bi/Heteroromantic
Bioterrorist
Underboss
Bury me in the roses and rot; I'll come back thorned.
TAG WITH @elisabeth
Elisabeth Fiorelli
wilt
POSTED ON Jul 18, 2024 5:17:31 GMT
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"Leave."[break][break]
There was that uneasy feeling again -- the one she'd known when Celebi pulled her away from this reality to witness another.[break][break]
This same scene had played out so many times before. In dim rooms, sometimes. Behind closed doors, always. Often she had found herself kneeling on the ground, begging to the point of tears and clutching at a rosy-tinged youth that faded more with each passing day.[break][break]
Echoes of old conversations carried back to her, shameful in their desperation and their unabashed longing:[break][break]
"Please, please don't do this."[break][break]
"I didn't mean it. I never meant to hurt you." [break]
"What can I do? Tell me, I beg of you. I'll do anything."[break][break]
"Please, won't you at least speak with me?" [break]
"Édouard, stop, you're hurting me--!"[break][break]
The darkness abruptly receded, like curtains drawn back to deny the shadows of the past. She blinked, startled by the influx of light in the room, and released a breath she'd scarcely known she'd been holding. Belatedly she noticed her hands trembling at the hollow of her throat, lingering there for reasons she didn't comprehend herself.[break][break]
It was so easy to be erased. For all people spoke of loyalty, it was nothing unusual to be discarded and forgotten.[break][break]
The sting of it never stopped hurting, though, no matter how you tried to numb yourself to it. Loneliness haunted you whether you wanted it to or not.[break][break]
"This is exactly the outcome Matias wanted." The truth tasted bitter and sharp on her tongue. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes, but she fought them back. It was a fight she wasn't certain she'd win. "No, I didn't intend to tell you. I thought I could protect you on my own. I thought I..."[break][break]
Her voice trailed off, lost to his indifference. It didn't matter what she'd thought, did it?[break][break]
Shame, not pride, had kept her quiet. That cowardice filled her now with disgust and self-loathing, making her body and mind a prison worse than that penitentiary ever had been.[break][break]
"Leave," he'd demanded. It'd be wisest to do as he asked.[break][break]
Listlessly, she shambled away from him towards the door. This, too, was familiar. Those early days of sobbing and hysterics had eventually ebbed and faded, dulling to a numbness that left her hollow and doll-like.[break][break]
The scorned rage would come later, unearthed from the rot of its suppression. For now, it was buried beneath too much sorrow to dig it out.[break][break]
She should have known better than to look back.[break][break]
She should have known better than to turn around and speak.[break][break]
"I love you," she whispered, for the first and what might be the last time. "Whatever you believe, Barnaby, I... have always loved you."
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