My Alpha Centauri (Completed)

陰影潛伏|2.5

'Words don't win...when you loose...'

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A R T

NOTHING COULD PREPARE ME FOR THE SMACK OF THE TRUTH, or the pound of the screech that ripped from my pale lips, or the pain, or the hurt, or the massive wanting.

It was like someone had pulled my strings and now I was coming apart, just like those people who had been quiet for too long, just like those people who had cared for too long, just like me. There was like this shattering CRACK that just caused ache, so much ache I couldn't stand up, so much ache I fell to the ground in a fit of sobs and earthquakes.

No tears though. I had used them up. No thoughts. No wonders. Just pain, unmerciful pain that belted and punched – that hurt so much I screamed – silently of course.

Then I realised it wasn't Bambi.

Crack!

North was in front of me, like he teleported and made sure he was right in front of me so that I could see his face. His lips dropped onto mine and then I got lost, got lost in him and him, and him, and guess what! Him.

But it ended too soon and I looked up at him, wondering why he wanted his lips on mine and why I wanted them. He pulled me into his chest, so that my head hit his neck and I was curled in between the most comfortable place a girl could ever be in with her boy.

'It's okay...' He soothed, his hands wrapping and wrapping...and wrapping, 'Calm down, baby...calm...'

I wanted to whisper my words to him. I wanted to tell him all about me and all about my red lipstick and all about Sun's record player. But I couldn't. I wanted to ask him about his friends and family, and his life and why he growled – so many things I needed to ask. So many.

I tried to find in me to let my voice scream, but I came up empty handed, and I was looking into his eyes and this pretence of being silent was falling, and falling, and falling so damn hard.

'North! Is she alright?' The voice was so far away and so dull, that it emptied my insides and made me want to scream, but what I wanted could never be what I needed. So I clung tighter and buried my skin into his, hating the fact I needed him, hating the fact I wanted someone I had just met a few hours ago, hating every single memory and bottle of wine, and puff of smoke and every single thing that killed me.

'She's okay – come on, love...I'll take you up stairs and we can talk...' He coaxed, the tone of his voice washing over me in calm waves,

I nodded weakly, keeping my eyes trained on a strand of hair that fell on his face, my hand itched to reach out and – I didn't even know what my hand wanted to do, it just needed to do something.

I closed my eyes and focused on the rhythm of his steps, every drop, hitting my heart and making the pain ricochet. His hands continued smoothing, wrapping, and wrapping around me until I no longer knew where my skin started and his ended.

'Shh, luna meum,' His hand was against my pulse, obviously trying to read it and make sure I wasn't freaking out or having a panic attack. 'Hmm, I think the doctor might be a better choice...'

I shook my head wildly.

No pill! No Pills! NO Pills! NO! PILLS!

Catching my unease, he continued to murmur sweet words into my ear, and I found myself aching for the voice in my throat. For the voice begging to be let out; to be one with the air again,