Fur vs Skin | on hold

15.

↠C h a p t e r F i f t e e n↞
DARK THOUGHTS

❝I am a wolf. Her. My Moon.❞

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Staring up at the ceiling has become a reoccurring thing, to keep myself from completely submerging into the dark abyss of my mind that called out my name: ready to take the scraps of my sanity and hold me hostage for eternity. The moon's glow cast shapes and images along the surface of the ceiling from the tree leaves that sway to the harshness of the outside world, presenting me my own show of what went on outside these walls, the shapes slowly transforming into my demons.

My fingers find the spot on my side beneath the covers, tracing the healed indents of what the predator left me with, the crescent moons of its fingers having a home upon my flesh. The memory of that fateful night burning in the depths of my mind, prowling it with the images of the man behind this scar: his crimson eyes plague the void in my head, the glint of his fangs flashing with ill intent.

My conscious conjures the name for what he was, movies and shows glorifying them to the world, yet I could not let the name run across my mind, still afraid to leave the comfort of ignorance that I still grapple onto. I refuse to let my thoughts venture to the images of my mother, but as always, it betrays me and summons the retch vision of her dying body on the floors of our kitchen, bloodied and battered, her eyes pleading me to leave and run to safety.

The sensation of tears makes their appearance, lodging a lump in my throat as I refuse to let them fall.

"Fuck. . ." I whisper brokenly into the air, pressing the palms of my hands into my eye-sockets as if to physically stop them.

Slight guilt courses through my veins at myself, the missing presence of Arsen helping me release my feelings alone, despite his frown face, I just needed time to myself to collect whatever fragments of my sanity that were slipping away from me. Being within the same vicinity as him would have arisen emotions that would have tangled with the ones I still struggle to control, having little knowledge of what he was to me. With the image of my mother floating around, I let them transfer to the image of my father, his whereabouts still a mystery to me.

The thought of him escaping safely rendering a slight hope in my chest, souring through my system, and feeding the notion that he was out there somewhere, searching for me. Heaving a breath, I remove my hands and to my side, my vision blotchy from the pressure of my palms as it returns to normal.

Should I tell them . .? the question runs aimlessly, fighting its way beyond the worries and dread before crashing into the wall of my conclusion.

Wiping under my eyes, I rise to a sitting position, swinging the covers back and turning to sit on the edge of the bed. Repeating the mantra of 'everything's going to be fine', I push myself from off the bed, the warm air hitting my exposed skin while I bend down to grab my shorts, slipping them on. Within a few steps, I reach the handle of the door, twisting the knob and swinging the structure inward; stopping short in my tracks as the blockage in my path.

Arsen looks up from his spot on the floor beside the door, the hazel in his eyes brightening at the sight of me. My heart stutters in my chest, the revelation that he's been sitting here since I asked him for momentary space, he rises to his feet, concern glittering in his orbs as they project out toward me. The atmosphere accumulates a sudden warmth, seeping into the crevasse of my body and staking their home in the very cells of my being, igniting a flame of sensations, pleasure goosebumps falling upon my skin.

Cupping my elbows as a delicious shiver anchors itself at the base of my spine, I crack a smile up at him, hoping the tremble in my hands slipped past his scrutinizing eyes.