Say My Name [ Teacher-Student Romance -- Robert Downey Jr ]

Ch.80 - Cloudy Partings

So. It's been since November 9th since this book has gotten an update and I am sooooo sorry. That's, what? 14 DAYS. 2 WEEKS. In that time I've gotten some awesome encouraging comments a d messages, and hey to the new folks!

Also--93K reads!! Whaaaat? Dude, crazy. Almost as crazy as 80 freaking chapters, like yay we made it! Anyways. This chapter is crazy long to make up for the a sense of updates. So enjoy :))

Follow me or add this story to your Wattpad reading list to know when SAY MY NAME has a chapter update! :))

*Glance to last chapter for a brief reminder of what's happening, if needed*
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It all... You know, it all blurs. She's numbed by her own narcissistic feelings, yet she feels. She feels the razor edges of a scalpel slicing into fresh flesh pale from fatigue and sluggishly yet profusely gushing out real pain. Pain that erupts along her chest, jumping fibres to muscles, to hollow bones that shake and burn with the need to collapse further into this convenient warmth that has come out of courage and loyalty rather than a leverage to gain back the love that a mourning Joseph cut clean those many weeks ago.

It's blurred and numbed and warm because one never does remember the copious words spoken at these kind of gatherings--it's the feelings. It's the heaviness that is burrowed deep inside of her like bricks in a concrete filled bag, forever sinking and dragging her down, down, down to the bottom of the dark blue sea.

Forever suffocating over the loss of her sweet Molly.

God, Molly. Her very special Molly. Once leaping through life, now forever frozen in time.

A six year old layered in pressed clothes chosen by their father, laying in a church chosen by their mother, and dead because her sister chose to not try harder. Whilst here, the now last living daughter sits scared and horrified by the blood still drying on her hands. She hopes she never forgets these bruises she's caused and tears that fall, that she never feels anything but what she does now. Crucified by her own actions, choking on her own vomit, and aching for a lasting love thats living embodiment has wrongly perished.

But there's, there's something she will never get out of her head. She knows will never leave. Won't, won't stray from her nightmares, her daydreams, her future, past, and present. Certain words, some images, that have made themselves charred and branded there behind the lids of her eyes. Things like, like seeing her parents cry--no matter her tumultuous relationship with them that seemingly is constantly encircling her, but Charlotte really does understand when people say fathers and mothers shouldn't have to bury their daughters and sons. Truly. The same way she, she shouldn't be here--that it would be one less shade of fucked up if it were Charlotte in that box instead. Albeit she really should be there instead of Moll.

Anyways. Nothing that hasn't already been profusely said.

Yet as icy and corrupted as she may feel, the conflicting thoughts dwindle down to a dire flame, lit only by habit (and knowing the truth). But when she is again reminded that that hand that pulses heat and tenderness along her curving hip bone, is Robert's, she lets reality fade and leans into a fantasy beyond her hearts dreamy needs.

Cause Robert's better. He's better than anything her befuddled brain could manage to come up with--invent and wish for. He's the one here--and she knows she keeps saying this, she does, but you have to understand that he is actually here. He's here in her time of need, of pain, and ruthless desires for an end, he is still fucking here. From the worst of her to the best, he has seen it all and not only stayed loyal, but willingly looked past it all and loved her when he should have strayed.