[attr="class","illieicon"]

[attr="class","illie b"]"did you miss me?" the stars twinkle at her back, glittering answers lost among the breeze. a comfortable ease surrounds her and whether it's the backdrop of the milky way or the eerie silence at her heels, she isn't sure. all she knows is she's falling into a pattern now, coincidences of life leading her down the path toward exploration. it's not scientific, not factual. there are no certainties in this life, in this moment. there's just a woman and a cave and a feeling.

she disappears into the darkness without batting an eye. why would she? it's all she has come to know.

silence clings to her body, clings to every inch of this place. it's only punctured by the sound of rushing water but that, too, falls prey to the silence in the end. it creeps along everything, snuffing out any other noises in the process until they're nothing more than static on a television's screen. and yet, the familiar sensations of panic never rise, never flutter in her body. it's almost as if she understands the world around her, understands that darkness is nothing to be feared. she's faced worse than a dark cave and perhaps that's the only certainty she needs.

memories try to rise, try to sink hungry claws into the soft matter of her brain. they almost do but she is no stranger to the cruelty of what lies in a skull. another certainty, it seems. illeana reyes is made of two things in the end: the fact that darkness is as familiar as an old lover and the fact that her mind is a dangerous place. both are comforting and terrifying prospects to recognize and she finds the beginnings of a new revelation in the spaces between.

feet still, movement halting, and she's staring at the cascading rivets of water. they pool and flow, continuing past her sights. there's a faint glow within the walls of this cave, just enough for her eyes to adjust and fill in the gaps. and then, she's tilting her head back, eyes seeking the ceilings. all she is met with is more darkness and it's a pity, really, that the stars outside could not follow her. they were comforting, even from light-years away. no matter, she'll endure as this is something else she's come to understand, accept. being alone is nothing to fear. sometimes, it's suffocating and others, it's not. tonight lies somewhere in between and she doesn't bother to figure out why. in the end, she chalks it up to the silence of her mind.

"what secrets do you hold?" comes out in an airy sigh and her eyes are sinking back down to earth, back down to flowing water and rocks as far as she can see. "will you show me?" analyze, dissect, understand, repeat. pick the place apart until there's nothing left to know. find comfort in the things seen, in the uncovered. this is how she will spend another sleepless night, where it's just a woman and a waterfall and the concept of unwrapping the universe's craftsmanship.