Decipher | Watty's 2017

LXXIV. Comminatory

Comminatory

/ˈkämənətôrē,kəˈminəˌtôrē/

adjective

threatening, punitive, or vengeful

It was three weeks after waking to his scent filling my nose. Three weeks after he had left me as I requested initially. But now I was regretting my decision. In between my breaks of deciphering the Code, I would watch his dwindling frame walk around the colony to adjust simple monitors as a way to keep himself busy. That was the only way I could see him in those days: from a distance. I knew if I approached that I would fold into his arms and collapse into his protection while his love covered me.

At that point, my life consisted of going to decipher the Code, watching Luke's frame, eating on the rare occasion that I was actually hungry, and returning to my empty bed, only to be greeted with the smiling face of my mother when I closed my eyes. Since the first night alone, I assumed Luke hadn't heard my reaction to the nightmares, that or he just ignored them, because he had yet to show up and leave his scent imprinted in my sheets.

Something within me seemed to stop functioning since we had split. My emotional state had been lacking as everyone had pointed out. Calum seemed to notice this moreso as we continued our therapy sessions; however, I would only talk about my nightmares and there were rarely improvements, unlike how we spoke when I had been with Luke.

Granted, Calum was receiving more information on the White Coats to tell the team planning our invasion of their headquarters when war was officially declared; however, it came with the cost of my sanity as I slowly slipped from reality. Calum seemed to notice this and often would attempt to persuade me to go back to Luke, which I answered with a firm no and explaining that if I went back, it would be a matter of time before I would ruin us again.

While this didn't seem to be enough to persuade Calum, it was plenty to convince me of staying away from the love of my life. Despite the worsening of the night terrors, I kept reminding myself that returning to Luke was not an option as I struggled to even close my eyes due to the fear which clouded my brain. Eventually, I would close my eyes out of exhaustion and met with the happy irises of my mother, which would send shivers down my spine as I reminded myself it was not real.

"I think you need to go to an actual psychiatrist Lissa," Calum spoke warily, taking in the information of my last terror. His brown eyes were trained on me as I rolled my eyes at his attempt to convince me that it was the best decision.

"If you can't handle a little bit of blood and gore, then I will just keep the image to myself Cal," I told him sympathetically as I looked over at him from the corner of my eye.

"It wasn't just blood and gore Lissa!" he protested, looking around for people listening before continuing. "You just said you woke up with blood coming from your wrists, which, coincidentally, was the place that you were injured in your dream," he whispered harshly, tugging my wrists up and shaking it in front of my face to show off the gauze covering the sliced skin.

"Okay, I get it," I grumbled, pulling my wrist from his hold. I knew that he was concerned, and I was too. But I had no need for an actual psychiatrist as they were limited and needed only for those larger cases. In my mind, I wasn't a large case; I was just suffering from separation anxiety and post traumatic stress which culminated to my sleep walking an unknowing harming of myself. He rolled his eyes at my reaction before lowering his voice even more.

"I'm half tempted to tell Luke just so that he will agree to your stupid marriage idea," he mumbled under his breath, making me widen my eyes at his thought. My hand gripped his wrist tightly, pulling him close to a corner to be out of people's way as I glared into his dark eyes with my light ones.