The Serpent and The Bird

Running from the Daylight.

On the evening of the third day it hit her.
While she was doing push-ups. Again.
On the twelfth one, Everleigh couldn't lift her body from the floor anymore.
And perhaps it was that she had been pushing her body to a different limit every day. Or the toll that it had been the last seven months on her mind and body.
Perhaps the lack of a good night of sleep.
Or the fact that Sebastian had yet to come back.

The tears gushed out like an open wound, and the pain festered on her body throughout the day, forcing her to sit down the floor, against the wall. Unable to move. Letting every thing out.
The same spot she had been before, weeks ago. When they had started this journey. And it felt like another one was ending.

The couch was sitting on the corner of her eye, and something caught her attention. She wiped her tears and took a longer look at the object underneath. Lying on the floor. Hiding from plain sight.
She hadn't seen it before, but she hadn't sat on the floor against that wall since that first day.

She crawled towards it, her heart thumping on her chest like a wild animal fights a confined cage.
Her fingers touched the porcelain mask and it felt cold. Unnerving.
Everleigh stared at it for a long time. And rage took over.
She threw the mask against the wall and it broke into a million pieces. And she just wished it had broken into a million more.
She went back to the same spot she was sitting, against the wall.
And waited. For a long time, while her mind was somewhere else.

The rain had stopped hours ago, and that was when she heard the steps. And by the time her head moved up to the door, he was already inside.

Sebastian didn't move. He stood there, looking at her, and she scanned his face, and his clothes.
However terrible she looked like after crying for hours, he had to look infinitely worse.
He was pale, and dark circles had settled below his eyes. Like he hadn't slept in days.
His movements were slow and paced, but not like he was analyzing the situation. But like he was weak and needed to move unhurriedly or else he would faint.
Had he eaten at all in the last three days?

He approached the couch and let his body fall on it, with a tired expression on his features. And suddenly she wanted to cry even more. Because she just wished she could fix him. Fix them.
And every day that passed, Everleigh had started to realized, perhaps, there was no way back to who they were.

- Why did you let me do it?

His voice was... absent. But hurt. And she knew was he was talking about.
All she wanted was to scream at him about who he was, and who they were together, not that long ago. But Rookwood's magic was still there. Like a wall that separated them.

- Because...

Because I've been dead since the day that you left, and the possibility of you, as cruel as you may be, is better than the reality of anybody else.
Because we accept the love that we think we deserve.
Because I love you. Not you, but the other you, with the same face. And the same voice. And the same touch. And for a second, I liked pretending that he was back.
Because abuse can feel like love, and starving people would eat anything. And I've been starving for you.

She didn't say any of those things.

- Because... I'm broken.

A truth.

And I thought you could mend me, somehow.

But she didn't say that, either. She didn't say any of that, while her eyes focused on the floor of the tent. Sebastian didn't speak for a very long time, and she had to accept that perhaps there wasn't any more questions.
But she still had her own.

- Where did you go?

She whispered, after an eternity of silence. His eyes were on the fireplace and he was barely blinking.