I want to hold your hand, but you are
the sun, and I am the moon. . . and
we will never collide / ⋆˚₊ 𖤓☽˚.⋆
STRANGER THINGS s3 - s4
Steve Harrington x Amelia Bloom
plot by @ioverots , cover by...
Amelia Bloom. Your only daughter. Big heart. All-smiles. Ordinary. A bit happy.
There she stumbled, out of a public bathroom with a blood-stained face and filthy clothes and her guts empty. She nearly dropped to the ground when the cold night breeze hugged her body. She felt certain she was down from the high you injected her on, yet her body felt as weak as a leaf.
Oh, why, Father?
She managed to approach the dispenser and shakily aligned her lips to the faucet. Her body seemed fragile and made of porcelain, like a doll's, fearful to touch, yet you destroyed her with no second thoughts.
Mumbling curses at herself, she slid down to the floor as she wiped her mouth. From a distance, one could tell you turned off a switch on her. She allowed herself to close her eyes, but still managed to forbid any shameful tears to wet her cheeks. Tears caused by your reckless doings and lies.
That day turned into one of those in which Amelia wished upon a star for her life's curse to come undone– she'd sit by her window and look at where the moon gracefully stood, hoping one day she could look as peaceful as her, with no Father's praying for her downfall as you secretly did.
You took care of her fate ever since you decided for her to become an outcast in the outside world, much so that the first time she felt she could take a peek at it, she ended up wounded by your hands.
Her heart bled and shed tears by itself upon hearing the damaging words that left your lips without any mercy.
Perhaps she was too naive to even hope for you to become better. For you to parent her instead of punish her. Perhaps all that crying meant nothing in the end because you ended up playing the monster in every child's fairytale, rather than the Father who read those godawful bedtime stories.
Oh, Father. The damage is irreversible.
Perhaps you will leave this place with all the built-up guilt inside of you, blistering your insides.
Her gathered thoughts made a broken sob escape Amelia's wounded lips.
Her heart ached, her body trembled, and she'd then realized that a simple band-aid wasn't enough to cover up her soul's wounds. Even after encountering him, it seemed as if the band-aid had been lifted to reveal the deepened scar on her heart.
