Murder Drones Stories/Oneshots

♡Part 9: Past or Present (Vizzy)

V's POV
Written: 6/23/24-6/24/24
Next part is the last one in the miniseries!!

-

I know how lucky I am. Things could be so much worse. I got a do-over, and here I am complaining! Well, not entirely complaining, I suppose.

There's just... something about all this? Something that feels so wrong and put of place. And I can't discern why.

While I'm thinking about all this, Lizzy sleeps peacefully in my arms. Honey-blonde strands of hair messily spread over the pillows and her face. She's small compared to me, but I know better than to think of her as anywhere close to fragile.

And I was small once too. Perhaps even smaller than Lizzy, really. But I wasn't strong back then. Not like she is.

So, when did I get 'strong'? My first thought is that my strength came with my new body. In a way it did, but I'm not thinking about physical strength only.

Thinking about it makes me restless. Dread like this is the only time my overheated body feels cold anymore. I don't think I'm strong like Lizzy is. Sure, I can act tough and fight... but is that really me? Have I changed to the point I'm only what I thought I needed to be? Who am I? Would Lizzy still love me if I were softer like I used to be?

Am I misleading her?

Lizzy grumbles in her sleep, distracting me from my thoughts. She throws an arm over me and flops onto her back with a soft snore. A line of drool cascades from the corner of her mouth.

There's something o find strikingly intimate about it all. She's not perfect, and it's so beautiful. Her flaws are just as beautiful to me as any other part of her. I feel like the general perception of love is addled by how it's represented in most mainstream medias: "perfect", conditional, and overall highly unrealistic.

Being able to share inperfection and vulnerability with Lizzy is so blissful. 

I wipe the drool line off of her mouth with my thumb, quickly pulling away as a guily thought overwhelms me: "Is it true vulnerability if I'm still under this guise?"

But, is it a front? I can't even tell anymore! I had to be ruthless to survive- I had to change.

Just... now that I can live? I'm not sure who I am.

Even if I can be softer like I used to, is that still me? It feels like I've internalized some of that ruthlessness.

If I can't figure this out, how am I supposed to be honest with Lizzy? Lizzy deserves my honesty. I want to give her my truth. I just don't understand it all myself yet.

Anxiety and stress build in my chest. It feels like there's a balloon inflating in my ribcage, flattening my lungs to my spine and making it near impossible to breathe. And with each pained, shallow breath, my vision blurs more.

The balloon in my chest turned out to be filled with more pain. It popped, but I had enough pain in my chest already. My lungs felt like someone was sucking the last juice droplets out of a Caprisun.

Hot tears rolled down my face. I don't remember the last time I let myself cry like this. It feels so weak.

I felt so selfish for doing it, but I held Lizzy closer and just cried. Sobs racked my body, viscious amd quiet like a predator. I should be strong for Lizzy! She's asleep though. And I can't not cry forever. It's better now than some inconvenient time.

What if I never stop though? If I let myself be weak once, how can I be strong again? Hell, am I even strong? I don't understand anything anymore.

Arms wrapped tightly around me. It's a gentle, comforting pressure. Lizzy must have woken up. She's humming something that sounds familiar, but all I can focus on is the all-consuming pain in my chest threatening to rip my lungs into shreds.