What's Said in Silence

Sera-XXXXXXII

Another drop fell onto my forehead, thick and sticky. It had long since turned cold and I'd given up all attempts in dodging it. This was my predestined punishment for my sins. Locked away, cold and starving, while the blood of the man that had taken everything dripped through the floor boards. 

I'm not asking for much, Seraphine.

We can be powerful, you just have to play your part.

If you love me you'll do this.

Don't make Evelyn pay for your disobedience.

Memories played through my mind like a poorly-filmed movie. The way we'd met had seemed so beautiful and predestined once before, but now all I can see is the monster that lurked beneath his skin. If I'd had any of the self preservation I did now, I wouldn't have stuck around. 

He had approached me underneath one of the trees in the local orchard. I had been so focused on the camera in my hands I hadn't noticed the man looming over me until he spoke. He'd introduced himself and took my hand, bringing it to his face and kissing my knuckles. I remembered the giddy feeling that coiled in my stomach. No one had ever looked at me the way that he did, nor had I ever really been flirted with. By the standards I had been taught, this was the best treatment I would ever receive, so I soaked up every ounce of it. 

For a while, I had viewed that entire interaction as a soul mate bond, equating it to finding the love of my life. When, in reality, he was a predator who'd simply picked his prey, the easiest target. He'd lured me in with promises of affection, attention, and a once in a lifetime love. In the end, I had swallowed his lies until they became my own. 

I pushed the unwanted memories away, hating the sticky feeling they left on my skin. I gave another tug at my binds, feeling the sharp edges cut deeper into my skin. Another drop fell from the ceiling, to serve as a reminder that I wouldn't escape my past this time. My past was here, raw and ugly, ready to gulp me down. Hell favored better than what I was currently going through. 

Dedication is a good look for you.

A much sweeter voice filtered through my mind, one I'd developed a keen taste for, chasing away all the unwanted reminders. The floorboards above me creaked and the fraction of myself that was ready to give in wished for the house to just collapse. The other pieces of me longed to hear his voice again. So rather than sit and wait for the inevitable grip of death, I replayed memories of the man I'd grown so attached to, had come to... love.

Our conversations are enthralling.

I would hijack heaven and flood hell for you.

Every memory worked to breathe a different sense of life into me. My chest ached from something other than the cold. 

Oblivion couldn't compare to the depths of my insanity.

I will not take what you won't willingly give.

Never once did I feel like I was forced to do anything. He'd always given me the choice. Even sitting down for our interview. Before he'd told me I had the job, he let his silence give me the choice to stay or leave. If I had to make the choice all over again, I'd make the exact same one and stay. 

Kiss me.

What I wouldn't give to have that opportunity just one more time. I wanted one more kiss, one more smile, one more touch.

You missed a spot.

A tear slipped down my cheek, followed by another, until they were coming in waves and I was gasping for breath through the sobs. One more bough of banter, one more badly cooked casserole, one more hotel stay, one more song. 

When I open my eyes to the future, I can hear you say my name.

With pain as your language.

The trauma we can't regrow.

Every lyric was a punch to the throat as they played through my mind. I imagined him sitting beside me, softly singing each one to me. It was my only source of comfort, the only light I had left. I tried not to let reality sink its claws in and ruin my imaginings, however ridiculous they might have been.

It was written for you.

It is a truth.

A truth. In my storm of lies, he'd given me a truth. If I could turn back time, I'd give him exactly the same in turn. My stubbornness and self-preservation had gotten in the way, keeping my truths locked away. I had thought I was protecting myself by doing so. The irony of it now. I was stuck here with no indication of where I was, all because I couldn't speak to him. Wouldn't speak to him.

Was I really going to die here, alone and ridden with lies? I hated that thought, not just the dying part, but not having told Vessel my truths, or telling him anything for that matter. I wanted to tell him my story, that I would be thankful to him for giving me a chance every second that I breathed. I wanted to tell him that he'd captivated me just the same, that I understood his design and where we connected. I wanted to tell him something... anything... everything.

Instead I was here, alone covered in blood that wasn't my own. I had landed myself in a mess that would never be cleaned. I swirled my tongue around my mouth, gathering any remaining drop of saliva and swallowing it to coat my overly dry throat. 

I had learned over time that words were a powerful tool, especially when it came to manipulation. Words alone had the power to make someone fall in love with you, to give you everything they had even if you gave them scraps in return. Vessel, though, had shown me that they also have healing qualities. They could convince someone that they were worth something, that they were beautiful despite the hand they'd been dealt- or had accepted. With that understanding, dying a silent death was bullshit.

I tilted my head up and took a deep breath, "My, my those eyes like fire..."