She was falling. Falling forever, held prisoner, chained to the colourless oblivion that seemed a contradiction to her elation the day before. Like Peter Pan, Skyler brought her to a Neverland that seemed irrevocably in reverse.
Arms wrap around her torso and her first instinct is to run.
“No. No. Shh. It's okay, it's fine Vi. It's me. It's Aaron. Shh. You're going to be okay. Just breathe.” His voice, so soothing, seemed to ail her further and she immediately felt horrible for bringing him down with her as her breathing exceeded the norm and sent her gasping.
“Come on,” his determined, strong voice shook and penetrated into her brain. “Come on, Vi. Breathe. Breathe. In and out. In and out. Come on, say it with me; in and out, in and out, in and-”
“Out.” She managed to breathe out.
He sighed in contempt, and kissed her forehead so lightly, that she would've missed it had she not been noticing everything with a strange new intensity.
“That's my girl,” he whispered and caressed the side of her face. To the ordinary observer, with their conventional eyes, her face would seem to be a picture of perfection. A most beautiful collage. But he could see the cracks and blotches of where glue had not been applied and where it had been spread in haste.
Through those imperfect scars Skyler left her, he could see the raw flesh and bone throbbing, grasping for something complete.
Violet's chest rose and fell in uniform succession as she steadily succumbed to sleep. Whatever relief felt, he knew, would be short lived. This would happen again. Tomorrow night. Perhaps the next. But he wouldn't ever leave her. He would always be there to bring her back from the cliff's edge. To keep her feet firmly planted on the ground.
Because if he let go, maybe she'd slip and fall peacefully into her own abyss, but he would drown.
And for that reason, he stayed up that night, like he did every night, feeling the bags protruding above his cheeks that were now a part of him as much as the eyes they were under.
He would protect her from herself and love her with all the affection she deserved in delicate hope that maybe, just maybe, one of these nights, she would wake up from her nightmares and would hold on to him with as much of herself as what he'd given her.
--Ani.
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Hmm. Inspiration credited to Brand New. Hmm.
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