'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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♱
'Take the pain until it all rings hollow We learn to loathe the truth as it shines I already see the ghosts on the sidewalk Kissing in the hereafter And your hands are in your pockets as you face 'em And your bodies both frozen by the dawn Only one knows they're watching it die They're there from hereafter
Young life crosses young love You've learned to think life is for somebody else You make it hard to live it for yourself And the man you love just doesn't know just what he's after Chances are, you wouldn't even recognise the man I am now Make up any excuse to remedy you can't control The knife wanders through me so slow It cuts between us as we grow'
CW: strong depictions of attachment in BPD, references to substance abuse (alcohol/ binge drinking, opioids), religious theology, brief discussions of death.
Whatever initial happiness Hera felt at the prospect of autumnal equinox was soon to be muffled by feelings of emotional exhaustion so intense she woke that morning with a pit in her stomach. If 4:53 could even count as the morning, she had no idea.
There was hate in her heart or some calculated inclination of dread and angst for the hours that lay before her. It was worse than a bad day, for it was premeditated. 365 days or so had passed since she first knocked upon Sirius' door, and with that, the desire to feel understood had led her to forget any other state of reality she'd ever had.
The idea that there had been a point in which Sirius could only return her level of intensity when sneaking out pained her:
At the heart of it all, Hera had been desperate for reciprocation in whatever form it may take — she was all the more willing to forget the things that first made her smile if it meant protecting herself for the next time. She could find comfort in that state for the time after that was a time of natural evolution and cycles of growth — death and rebirth as seen in nature, and so close to her very soul.
It was almost meteoric how fast Hera became comfortable with him, but at this time of year it was hard not to compare their relationship to whatever semblance of that she'd had with Cedric. She figured that it was only natural to consider their limited past to be more than it was, for looking back the problems far outweighed the positives; they were too young, and she trusted neither his intentions nor his wandering eye as God had shaped them to do so.
