Stolen Voices ✓

November 26th

love

November 26th:

He drives, with tears clouding his vision like tempest against the smogged-up windows. He continues forward through the blanket of night and half the next day, the sun listless in the sky, providing little light as it skulkes behind the clouds. He drives through the next day until the night rises again, with no stars to brush its canvas, the moon only a sliver. The wind is wicked against his skin as if humanity can sense the emptiness inside him.

Almost three years of his life, dwindled away by his stolen voice, only to seek refuge in a girl. An enigma, whose beauty regards second glances on the street, whose voice has become a part of his own. The girl whom he adores, whose spark ignites the smothered flame within him, who sees him for more than his trauma, as a human. 

Mara showed up one day in his life and never left. He can't let her go this time, pushing her away has proved to be impossible.

It took Luella intruding his thoughts to know love holds no bounds, not when they are so utterly tied up in each other's stories. She makes him feel alive on the inside, and he helps subdue her chaos. Their opposing personalities somehow fit together perfectly, the building blocks of their structure built upon their vices.

I love her, he thinks, climbing up the creaking stairs towards her flat. With every step he takes, his heart swells more. Climbing towards the top, a step below the roof. The walls are paper-thin, he can hear her horrendous singing once he reaches her level, lingering outside her door.

Like the first day they met, he wishes he was deaf and not mute. It had caught his attention, luring him towards the girl whose white jacket was splattered with paint, uncaringly. Mara, who sought to identify what he was saying through book titles, not brushing him off.

Knocking three times, you'd think he'd be emptied of tears with none left to shed, only the reminisce of their trail. His skin is blotchy and red, streaks from his eyes burning into the skin of his cheeks. As her door swings open, though, revealing her in the utmost disarray, what little of his resolve is left shatters.

Stalking into the apartment, she lurches backward at his looming presence, her eyes wide at his dominance. Elias closes the door behind him with force, his lips find hers in all the agitation, hard and fast. Sucking in a surprised breath, his calloused hands cup her cheeks, it's then she responds. Kissing him back with the same amount of fury, her hands using his shoulders to steady her.

He continues to stalk forwards, pushing her backward until her back hits the wall, unable to move any more forwards. Feeling its surface through her thin tank top, their lips, never divide. If possible, they become more ravishing. Savoring her taste as his tongue finds hers. His hand, falling to her hip and pushing her farther into the wall. His other hand, tracing every dip of her frame.

Minutes, hours, time becomes nothing but numbers in sequence. His harsh lips, dropping to her neck, kissing every inch of exposed skin he can find, brandishing her. With the words he can't seem to form, he shows her how much he cares with his kiss. And she responds, her nails digging into his back, only to pull away for a breath of fumbled air.

"I love you," he whispers against her lips, his eyes still closed as he encases her against the wall. With his hands on either side of her head, confining her, her eyes fly open in surprise. Her blue irises, dilating with so much emotion, her words stumbling from her lips.

"Wh- what?" She drones, her heart jumped in her chest. Mara Gray, eighteen years old, has never been told she is loved. Sure, she's said it many times to Liam, but he never said it back. And her family, evidently, they don't even know the sharpness of love. Maybe Darla and her now-husband know what it can be, but their love is that of business, not desire.