Say My Name [ Teacher-Student Romance -- Robert Downey Jr ]

Ch.77 - Moments Are Momentary

IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE AT END OF CHAP.
__________________________________________

Steam dances a slow rhythm from her decorative reindeer and candy cane coloured mug. The smell of milky chocolate and mint wafts and swirls through frosty crisp air into Charlottes open pallet. Caresses her cluttered incongruent rummaging rambled thoughts to match her sweetly pristine and gracious surroundings. To camouflage into the peace and serenity curled possessively around her, wrapped in a thick lizard printed blanket, with small even huffing breaths. Hot luscious coco clasped carefully in her right hand and Molly held safely in the left. Little fists gripping knots into Charlottes Adidas hoodie as she nestles in her own matching one. Little ferry nose, pink cheeks, and large gumdrop eyes rest without resent.

It's a day off for Moll. A day out of the prison that clouds her brilliance with too many doses of mystery labelled medications. Dropped and left drowsy on her elder sisters lap. Fists clutched in Charlottes sweater in hopes that when she wakes it won't have been another bad dream.

Sad and corrupting how depressingly familiar that fear is.

The same with this newly shared trauma they both still are recovering from (will never fully recover from). It'll be something they'll carry with them for the rest of their lives. The memories of acquainting deaths door step, knocking and shaking the dark lords slippery hand.

Staring out into busy mid city traffic, reclining lazy boy chair dragged to this open terrace door that squeaks when it opens, she gazes out with knitted brows. Fingers running through the mirrored brunette hair as the little one takes a turn sucking at her thumb like she's done since she was a baby. Little humming sounds as she still keeps that left grip tight on Charlottes hoodie.

It's cold out but it's soothing. The air, the refreshment of sucking in clear prosperity and hope into beating bodies. That reminder that they're still alive and living. That it's going to be okay--to just take one breath at a time.

You know... Breathing. Breathing is, it's just, it's such a quaint thing that we take advantage of literally every second and day of our very short, very condense, enchanting life spans.

Such a magical, majestic thing that filling our bodies with air is. How strange and different and essential it is. Important and substantially taken advantage of till you can't find another huff. Till your lungs are dry or filled or deprived of the oxygen you so badly seek. Till you have a burning sensation swooshing into that space meant for life--filling with death.

Charlotte does not take advantage of that privilege any longer. She savours it's sweet sensation. It's swirling sound and collective calmness that evaporates any progressive panic that may linger in waiting.

Not Charlottes own breathing though--Molly's is her creamy melody of peace. The thing that coaxes all demons into hiding. That wraps her up all warm and tight, and whispers to her that everything's going to be okay. And hopefully it will be. Maybe.

Though Charlotte still brandishes her smooth oak cane, Molly had gotten her bandages off a few weeks ago. And thats a sign. A sign everything will be okay. That they'll both get better from this heartache and heartbreak.

The first being the tragic accident, or The Day as it's been referred to. Though Moll doesn't talk about it much. Doesn't talk at all much--sleeps a lot. Doesn't eat enough. Or bathe at all. Hates taking the pills that take her shininess away or inserting another bruising IV drip into her tiny thinned veins.

Charlotte doesn't talk about it either. Tries to not think about it or generally avoids it at all costs. But she does anyway. Can't help when her mind wanders to those glazed eyes peering at her under thick moving current, or, or, whatever else happened down there. She can't really recall (or maybe forces to block it out). Only remembers what it felt like to lose air and have both Molly and Robert's screams freshly printed in her buzzing brain.