ecstasy | corpse husband

chapter 19.

parking garage
day eight

I fell asleep in another man's arms last night.

It's the sole thought circulating elowen's brain for much of the next day. that, and of course, what he'd confessed to her prior to coaxing her into sleep. she hadn't said anything in response, wasn't sure how. the concept of what he told her seemed absurd and very abstract, but more than anything, she felt nothing. she is indifferent on the matter.

If she's being honest, she's felt a lot of nothing for almost three days now. while it could be normal for any other person, it's foreign to her. wrong, even. she feels like she's broken in every aspect of the word and conflicted as to whether she likes herself more this way or not.

when she glances at corpse while he's brushing his teeth over the ledge of the parking garage like she'd just been, water bottle in hand, it's as if her head cannot make up its mind about him. she's a wash of inconsistent feelings that all get submerged in her benumbed thoughts.

her eyes trace over the lines of his figure, studying him, contemplating his confusing intentions, watching the taut muscles of his back. remembering what he felt like clutching onto her, like he needed it more than she did. her pulse thumps quicker but her expression is infinitely blank.

"the rain is pretty as fuck, isn't it?" corpse speaks through a mouthful of toothbrush.

elowen gathers her thoughts, blinking. "when it isn't being so violent, I guess it can be." last night was almost scary. a storm is much more enjoyable when you're inside your home and swaddled in fluffy sheets.

"even then," he concludes, slightly muffled.

moving on, she slits her eyes and listens to the faint patter of rain. "where is everybody?" she whispers, referring to the lack of city ambience.

he rinses his mouth over the ledge. "dead."

or hiding. but it sure felt like everyone was dead sometimes. here they are, in a parking garage in the outskirts of seattle, and there is no noise. no car horns, no voices, no sirens. when they were here a week ago, it was chaos. she was sure her eardrums were going to blow out the first night that started it all. that feels like an entirely different reality in comparison to where they are now.

after the radio systems died on them, they'd disconnected from society. after elijah died, she'd disconnected from herself.

the way she sees it, there's only one way to stitch the pieces back together.

"do you think we could get a move on?" she asks corpse while shrugging on her father's jacket. "we slept too long. well, I did, at least. I wish you'd woken me sooner." her tone is more bothered than she's trying for it to be.

"I wouldn't inflict that kind of torture on you," corpse replies.

she hadn't slept well enough the previous nights for obvious reasons; the last thing he'd want to do is disrupt her when she finally wasn't restless. he quite likes the notion that it had something to do with his presence. besides, he found their sleeping arrangement very therapeutic for them both, if he's being honest.

he still spent most of the night listening to her breathe erratically.

elowen pulls her long hair from the inside of the jacket, threading her fingers through some tangles. "what's torture is not knowing where my father is or if he's even alive," she mutters more to herself than to him. he could be in this city right now looking for her. he wouldn't find her holed up in a parking garage.

corpse looks at her silently, mouth set in a slight frown. he doesn't know much about this; it was him who'd broken contact with his own parents after all. he doesn't think about them or worry like elowen does for her dad or even remotely care.