‴ Wild Flower

one

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chapter one
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AND BABY, FOR YOU,
I WOULD FALL FROM GRACE,
JUST TO TOUCH YOUR FACE
IF YOU WALK AWAY,
ID BEG YOU ON MY KNEES TO STAY.

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— I WAS ON THE EDGE, my heart were racing as I screamed, "Are you kidding me? Don't touch me!" Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision as I pushed him away with every ounce of strength I could muster. I felt so tired of the suffocating feeling that wrapped around me.

I've never acted like that before. I've never screamed that hard, or used my hands. He was the only person who was able to make me act like that.

"Stop, just stop for a second, Grace," he pleaded, his voice was desperate mix of frustration and urgency as he tried to close the distance between us. It felt like he was trying to draw me back into a storm I desperately wanted to escape.

"No! Stay away!" I shouted, my hands hitting his chest repeatedly, a futile attempt to create space between us.
I felt betrayed, broken, and devastated.

How could he not see how much affect he have over me? How can he break my heart so many times, i thought to myself.

"I love you, Grace. I love you, listen to me." His hands roamed over me, searching for a connection.

"Don't touch me." I cried, covering my face with my hands, my voice breaking under the weight of it all.
I hated feeling like a child, powerless in front of him, caught in a storm of mixed feelings that left me reeling.

I broke. Every part of me and my body was broken.

"Stop it!" he yelled, his arm raised, and my heart dropped like a stone. Time seemed to freeze, I instinctively closed my body in defense. My eyes widened, the reality of the moment crashing down on me like it never have before.

I knew this was wrong. I felt pathetic for staying, for letting him ruin me time and time again. The fear clawed at my insides, a primal instinct screaming at me to run, to escape. But my feet felt glued to the ground, caught in the gravity of our past.

I loved him too much.

I felt the pain in every inch of my body. It was a kind of pain I didn't know how to describe, but I felt it everywhere. My whole body ached, like grief had seeped into my bones and settled there.

My heart physically hurt—this dull, crushing pressure that made it hard to breathe, as if my ribcage wasn't big enough to hold the weight.

My legs felt weak, my arms heavy, as if my body couldn't carry the burden of my emotions.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't find the strength. My throat burned, every heartbeat felt like a knife, I just wanted it to stop. I wanted the pain to let me go, to give me one moment of peace.

I felt like he bruised my soul. Damaged it.

He looked around, trying to calm himself, and I watched as he scratched his chin, taking deep breaths. Finally, his gaze met mine again, and I could see a flicker of regret in his eyes, himself again.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry." He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around me tightly. My head rested against his chest, and I could hear his heart beating, a reminder of the love that felt so confusing and overwhelming. I was shaking, and I knew he could feel it, the tremors of my fear and my conflicting emotions.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice softer, almost broken. I could feel the warmth of his body, the familiar scent of him, and for a moment, I was torn between wanting to pull away and wanting to believe him.