Hell or High Water (#Wattys2016)

•However Far Away•

🎭🎭🎭

A man of words and not of deeds

The room was a mix of gold and blue hues, the bed a lush red. The curtains, a surprise to her that there are any, were drawn and the flowers freshly clipped.

Is like a garden full of weeds
And when the weeds begin to grow

Thelia returned to SHIELD shortly after Loki's trial, and Charlie missed her the second she left. Frigga was nice enough during the upcoming weeks, going so far as to invite her to tea in the gardens and discussing literature in the Library when days were especially onerous, but it would never be the same.

It's like a garden full of snow
And when the snow begins to fall

Frigga's emotional walls were definably clear - a safeguard in light of a torn family. She could barely stand to look at the mother of her grandchildren for longer periods of time, whether it was due to shame or loathing no one could be sure of, and Charlie wished Frigga could see that nothing was her fault.

It's like a bird upon the wall
And when the bird away does fly

She wished she could find the words Loki should have said, only with a dozen apologies in between.

It's like an eagle in the sky
And when the sky begins to roar

She wished Odin would find the strength to endure a visit to see his grandchildren. Although Charlie knew in some ways this was too much to ask of him directly, as they bore an uncanny resmblance to a babe he found on that cold winter's day eons ago.

It's like a lion at the door
And when the door begins to crack

She wished Thor would find peace to move on, but how can one move when the days once filled with mischief and laughter linger in your mind when nights are long and stars give little comfort?

It's like a stick across your back

Above all, she wished she didn't feel like a burden, like the opressing fear that nothing here could keep her sane anymore. The sympathic glances were driving her mad.

And when your back begins to smart

She needed to leave. She wanted to be rid of him, and Asgard, once and for all, even if that meant getting lost in the memories.

It's like a penknife in your heart

It was good to be home. Even her parents were happy to see Charlie doing well for herself - minus a husband, though the years had not been kind to them.

And when your heart begins to bleed

Charlie loved how calmly Anya would drift off into dream land from the soothing lullaby, too young to understand it's subtle morbid meaning, in opposed to her brother Thomas, whose eager bright green eyes would wonder at every nook and crany until he grew tired.

You're dead, and dead, and dead indeed.

I guess by following its own warped set of rules, the world has a distinct way of making you stronger over time.

°°°°°

A/N: *heheheh*

Anyway. Thanks for reading, voting, commenting, yadda yadda yadda...💙