was basically told i'm getting kicked out of the house in august, in which i realized how fucking ironic that was. when i'm sad i write and project, sorry folklore. but don't worry, it's far from canon. (the speak now bit and s**cide implications at least)
side note: i didn't care to have folklore's old english in this one, its not canon + it was just meant to be done quickly.
CW: S**cide Implications
!Non-Canon!
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Subdued waves deliberated across the prodigious lake; coarse stones delving into fabric - scuffing against skin.
The outlook of dull shine was resonant: Folklore perusing water weeds, aquatic creatures swirling through its foliage - each sound increased in frailty. Veils above obstructed empyrean: blue turning grey - sunbeam eclipsed.
Crackling of leafage listened, glancing right: leather boots.
"What are you doing?" Voice cold: aloof.
Her's was an antithetical, "dreaming of paradise."
Autumn postured herself amongst a warm summer; two sides of the same coin. "I do not know what that means."
Folklore situated chin onto wrist - quick hum approaching: "I'll be moving out in August."
"Is this because of Speak Now?"
She huffed, "congratulations, you are beginning to grasp the concepts of humanity." A smooth chuckle tickling gums: subtle glint to her sister, surveying a glance lowered.
Folklore lost her smile.
"Sorry, that was rude of me."
"It was." Unconditionally blank.
The two peered at indistinguishable ripples in clear liquid - wind cantabile to strands of blonde.
"You have been seeing the sad in everything lately." Evermore shifted against earth; heels snapping to boulders.
Folklore's benevolence came out in a laugh, reserved. "Perhaps I should consider myself a genius of loneliness and failed loves." Top most teeth tugging at her bottom lip, "I wish it wasn't always my fault."
Hissing of a breath.
"Most times in relationships it is not solely one person's fault-"
"I don't need to hear your logical answers right now!" Flagrant tears coursing, "I'm so cold." Her lips tremble; drawing fitted polyester to chest, "I wish I wasn't cold."
"Going inside could solve that problem."
Folklore altered her frame: volatile legs - away from sister.
"I wish I wasn't always alone. Why do I always have to be alone?"
Monotonic - "You are not physically alone at the-"
Melancholy shot her snap, "I mean emotionally, Eve," jaw crackling shut.
Evermore blinked.
"I do not know what that means."
"Of course you don't!"
She crammed cheeks into palms; groaning, "why is it always my fault!"
"Is that a question I am supposed to answer?"
"I can't be around anyone here," Folklore mumbled, "I just want to go to paradise."
Liquid stood still; fracturing reverberation rumbling into the heavens - vigorous purple and white strikes stunning puff.
"Then I will leave with you."
"No," lips sucked in - exhaling sigh, "I don't want you to come with me."
Evermore stared; minimal hitch of breath - other swearing it was nothing but ingenuity. "I do not want to be separated from you again."
Folklore glanced up, "we've done it for so many years, what's stopping us now?"
"Logically I know-"
"Spare me the indignity." Fingertips drew on top of hardened surface, "I'm tired. I'm just..." emitting breath, "tired." Her eyes solemn, "leave me to paradise."
Evermore tilted frame, "I do not see what is stopping you once you are inside. It can be quite restorative in some settings in the estate, I imagine your paradise consists of quiet and-"
Folklore sibilated a puff; eyes watering, plump bottom flesh quivering. "Just leave me alone!"
"But you just said you did not like being alone."
"Leave me alone, Eve."
Shrouded clouds stirred further in area; additional crackling bang.
"I urge you to come inside, Lorie. I do not want you to be stuck in a thunderstorm, especially during tornado season."
Despondency howled her sob: pressing palms into eyes, "please! Please in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit just leave me alone!" Her cries shudder; desperate for stabilization. "Just let me drift into paradise."
Evermore delayed; unwavering.
Grinding foliage to soles - Folklore hearkening distance: disseminated.
Her vision was blurry; blinking skyward, studying the celestial sphere - droplet flickering on the tip of her nose.
I was not meant to touch peace.
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istfg my depression episode comes back i'm losing my goddamn marbles, i cannot have another shitty birthday like last year.
YOU ARE READING
Taylor Eras Stories
FanfictionDrabbles/One-Shots of Taylor Swift Albums personified. WILL NOT BE UPDATED AGAIN.
