tbe - 2020

twenty six

Bea Miller
••• to the grave •••

i was feeling empty, a feeling with uncertainty

i couldn't be left inside a room with me

now i believe running only gets you where you see

•••••

Note: please don't actually go around smacking people's necks to try and knock them out. You might get a restraining order.

The perfect man exists and his name is Lloyd Garmadon.

He smiled at me from across the picnic blanket, his blond hair shifting in the gentle breeze. The long, dry grass around us swayed in time and the sky had never looked so blue. So blue, I felt as if I could swim in it. Cicadas chirped from the forest in the distance.
No swords, no ninja gi, no weird prophecy. No people wanting him dead breathing down our necks.

It was just us, in this field that seemed to extend for as far as the eye can see. We were sat under a large maple tree, sheltered from the blistering sun. Drops of gold still dappled Lloyd's face as he closed his eyes and gently inhaled the dry smell of summer.
"This is perfect," he murmured, green eyes fluttering open and landing on me with a look that made me melt. I smiled dopily back, thoroughly entranced by the boy in front of me.
"It is," I agreed in a soft voice, twisting a piece of wheat between my fingers. Birds chirped in the branches above. Civilisation couldn't be seen for miles.

He grinned, his face pulling up into a perfect, handsome smile that made my heart spin. He crawled forward, brushing aside the bunch of discarded board games that had already been played through.
His hand lifted up to pleat through my hair and I leant into his touch, my eyes closing in bliss.
This was perfect. I never wanted it to end.
"Y/n?" Lloyd whispered. I hummed in response as he pressed his lips between my brows. "I need to ask you something..."
Lloyd pulled back slowly, lips brushing down the bridge of my nose as he parted. I shuddered at the visceral, feathery feeling of it and found myself being pulled forward with him, chasing his touch.

"Yeah?" I asked quietly, voice as light as the wind.
"Promise you'll tell me the truth?" his voice was as gentle as soft leather. It brushed down my spine and I shivered, the mere sound of it sending my stomach into spirals.
"Of course," my breathy reply was quick as my eyes softly closed. I didn't need to think too hard on it; I'll always tell Lloyd the truth.
His fingertips slid up my arm and my breath hitched at the delicate action. He was handling me like porcelain. It made me melt before him, putty in his hands. He could mould me into whatever shape he wanted and I'd have no qualms.

"Have you gone home?" he asked.
My brow scrunched a little in confusion. "Huh?"
Lloyd suddenly gripped my shoulders. My eyes snapped open. His face looked pale, clammy. His hair was black.
"Y/n!" Go home!" he screamed. The gentle breeze had picked up into a battering gale, throwing me against the tree.
"Lloyd!" I reached out for him, but the wind was pulling him away from me. "Please!"
"Forget about me!" Lloyd yelled over the howling wind. Blood had started dribbling from his eyes. The sun turned cold, frigid. The sky was covered by storm clouds.
"Lloyd!" I tried to peel myself off from the tree but the wind had simply plucked me from the ground and I was tossing, tumbling, being viscously thrown through the sky.