Open Closets

sense, shadows and she

A/N: hey lovelies. this is the 28th chapter. It's written by the sweet HeyTiaHere. She is one of the first people I asked and she came to me two weeks ago asking me if i wanna use this text and I happily said yes, so here you go.

she detaches herself from the shadows with incomparable grace. darkness creeps up against the wall behind her; an ominous silhouette leering at me with bloodshot eyes so wide they could be considered feral yet at the same time so empty, as though the strange being that hides in the walls is changing form and trying to trick me. I laugh in the face of its pathetic attempts, because nothing could scare me away from her.

a beam of light emanates from her form and blinds me, but I gladly accept the loss of one such sense and each and every other one is heightened. I can smell her from a thousand miles away; the smell of tea and biscuits and apple juice and vanilla that overwhelms me but quite frankly I can't complain because it's my favourite smell and I think I may be ever so slightly addicted. I can almost taste lemon and sugar on her lips and I'm not sure why that's the first taste to come to mind when it's so unlike her but it was the sweetest thing I thought of immediately and I feel that says enough. she's everywhere and she shrouds me like the shadows shroud her and I think she may be my shadows, my darkness, but quite frankly I can't complain, because it's her.

and perhaps I quake ever so slightly under her glare but I know the fear that creeps around my body in coils is not all of her, and that fear of myself that she's triggered is a big part of it too. because, of course, I've always known that I'll like the taste of lemon lips and I've always known that the intricate palette of colours that make up the kaleidoscopic eyes she has hold a special place in my heart, but never before have I felt it.

of course, chocolate flavoured lips are a fitting and enjoyable disguise, and liking them is no huge feat for me when it's such normalcy. they're a perfect substitute and they taste good, so good, that I've always been able to hide the fact I like lemon with the fact I like chocolate and could happily stick with the latter for life, but as my craving for sweet fruit becomes more and more poignant, this whole censorship is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain.

I'm drowning in flavour and my lips taste of nothing.

it's unrealistic, really, to like lemon when I know my parents would shake their heads no matter how much they fruitlessly murmur that they won't, and I know that if she's my shadow she's destined to hurt me, but desire is a strong and almost irresistible force, and perhaps the taste of lemon and the solitude of shadows is just what I need. after all, I'm surrounded in shadows. I lurk in them like an otherworldly figure, with long limbs and nimble fingers and black at every angle, obscured from view and eerie. I cause pain and I retreat almost as soon as the light is cast and that could cause all sorts of complications but I'm learning, she's teaching me, and she never told me she disliked the darkness.

I can't wait to settle into the smell of tea and biscuits and apple juice and vanilla and all things beautiful, just like her. I can't wait to reflect the beam that she gives off and let the light and shadows dance a beautifully melancholy waltz. I can't wait for her, and yet at the same time, I could wait a million years.

perhaps if I get a taste of the lemon I won't feel so ashamed, so terrified, so hopeless. or perhaps I'll feel all at an unexplainably excruciating scale. either way it'll make me feel something, she'll make me feel something, which is more than he ever did. and, sure, the taste of chocolate is delicious and heavenly, but maybe lemon isn't so bad after all.

((not sure if this makes sense but basically lemon's supposed to represent girls and chocolate's supposed to represent boys yeah idk))