" I think perhaps I will always hold a candle for him, even until it begins to burn my hand. And when the light has faded,
I will remain there in the darkness holding what remains, simply because I cannot let go"
I was never a praying woman. I've never found purpose in it, murmuring words out into the openness as if a response was near. But by god, ever since I met you, I find myself on my knees, knelt over, whispering your name as if it could bring you back.
I think perhaps I will always hold a candle for him, even once the wax begins to burn my hand. And when the light has died, I will remain there in the darkness, holding what is left simply because I cannot. let. go. But that's not important now.
____________________________________
"Tell me my love, why do you insist on always making me work to find you?", Annabelle inquisited, face in her palms grinning up at Micheal. He tilted his head, as if he were a puppy.
"Don't tell me you're getting impatient now, I thought you enjoyed the chase", he smirked. Now unamused yet giggling, Annabelle leaned over and gave Michael's arm a punch. "You know I hate frantically running around like a lost dog, calling your name", she smiled. "Besides, I think I like the catch better",she provoked with a grin, crawling into Michael's arms. He accepted with a sigh of relief, knowing their time was limited. Laying with her head buried in his chest, his hand exploring her hair, Annabelle sensed the sorrow in Micheal. She waited in patience for him to make some witty remark or joke, but she only received silence. Annabelle raised her brows, lifting her head to look above at Micheal. His lips parted. "I don't think I can handle this arrangement where we only have a few hours together, every other night" he released, staring out at the meadow-plastered landscape.
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Annabelle lowered her gaze to Michael's hand and slid her fingers into his, grasping his palm. He looked down, resting his head onto hers, then covering their intertwined hands with his other palm. "I can't bear leaving you", he mumbled. Annabelle embraced his touch, fighting the sting in her chest that provoked tears. "Micheal, I love-". Her words were cut off as he faded into dust and the landscape went dark. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing her room. Her desolate, empty room. Moonlight seeped through the blinds as she rolled to her side, sprawled out amongst the mattress and tangled in the sheets, allowing the light to consume her. She clasped her eyes shut, praying that if she closed them tight enough perhaps it would lead her back to him. Disappointment.
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Whatever our souls are made of, mine and hers are the same. If I'm being completely honest, the vulnerability of it all nauseates me. But I love her. How can something so beautiful be so painful.
___________________________________
The universe is cruel, relentless. Micheal could attest, as he was fully aware of its perils. He felt nothing more than rage, pure hatred for the majority of aspects of his life. For his father, for leaving him. For the witches, for taking Ms. Mead. For his grandmother, for abandoning him. For the world, for what it had condemned him to becoming.
Then again, how could he hate the world when it had her in it?
The first time they met. He found her in a dream. A dream festered with terror, pain, hurt. Her screams proliferated as he stepped closer into the darkness, to reveal a silhouette. A girl, curled in the corner, surrounded by entities, mouths gaping, eyes red, bodies mangled. He couldn't ignore the hint of fear the creatures instilled in him, however was willing to dismiss those feelings in the name of empathy for the strange girl. As he approached the crowd, the creatures fled his presence, revealing the trembling girl, back still turned to Micheal. His eyebrows furrowed, face puzzled, he reached out his arm to her shoulder. As his fingertip grazed her bare skin, she flinched, slowly turning her head in his direction. "Please", she whispered faintly, voice hoarse and raspy. Now with an unfiltered expression of pity and sorrow, he frowned in response to the girl's sheer terror as he yanked his arm back. Eyes still intently locked on her, he knelt down. His leather shoes creaked as he lowered himself to the floor. "I'm not going to hurt you. Please, turn around", he assured, hesitantly reaching out his hand to caress her back. She turned her head, fixing her gaze on his blue eyes. Comfort.
"Who are you? You don't belong here." She faltered, tears still resting on her cheeks. Michael's mouth hung open ever so slightly as he examined the girls face. Her mangled, brunette hair. Hazel, no, golden eyes. Her soft lips. Now confused more than afraid, the girl questioned "Who are you?". "I-. My name is Micheal.", he stuttered. Her face relaxed as she shifted her body towards him, unwrapping her arms. "Oh.", she murmured, wiping her eyes. He pondered for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak, before closing it abruptly. He adjusted his posture. "Come with me", he consoled, reaching his hand out to her. Apprehensively, she lifted her body from the ground, before stumbling back down to the floor with a sharp breath in. Micheal's eyes widened. He practically jumped to the ground, sliding his arms underneath the girls body, lifting her to his chest. "Please, just leave me",she urged, breaking her eyes away from his. He studied the girl in his arms, fighting the urge to simply hold her close for a few moments. "Shh, let me help you", he comforted. Melting into his arms, she accepted.
"This is my dream, why does it seem as if I'm the intruder here. What the fuck even is this", he thought to himself.
As he carried the girl in his arms, he allowed a subtle feeling of relief and safety to consume him. It was a rather foreign feeling, causing him to wonder what exactly this girl possessed to instill this feeling in him.
