doomsday

ten: safe haven

she's stumbling into my arms before I can even close the door properly.

the familiar warm and rich peach-honey smell is almost too tempting, forcing me to push her shaking body away from mine.

I hold her by the shoulders. "What's wrong? What are you doing here?"

her tear-stained cocoa eyes are almost as big as the moon. her reply comes out shaky and hesitant: "I'm sorry. I just can't be alone right now."

the pleading in her voice is hard to ignore, so I let her sink into my couch as I close the door.

her confession comes pouring out of her lips as soon as she's warm; the scalding hot mug of tea being cradled by her hands is the first trigger to her increasing ease.

and I know why.

her doubts and insecurities are always so much stronger in the comfort of the dark.

maybe it's because I've promised her the world, and the only place that those lies seem to hold a little more truth to them in is my bed.

I guess that's when it stopped being a surprise to have her falling apart in my arms.

almost every dark, stormy night ends with her warm body pressed against mine, and me whispering pretty little lies into her eager ears.

but then I'd have to spend every following morning hiding everything sharp away.

and now, as she's leaning into me, dripping mascara staining my jumper, all I can offer is a scathingly malicious comment.

"What did you do with him?"

I have to resist the urge to admire how easily I can make her come undone. she's crying apologies faster than I can remind myself how wicked I'm being.

I know I've done this to her.

I know she's poured her heart into my hands and I left it out in the cold.

she must've known I was never going to keep it safe.

"I'm sorry I got caught up in him. I never meant to leave you. I'll never do it again."

it's a shame she doesn't know that her fierce loyalty has always been one-sided. that there was never going to be an us.

when she begins scratching at the skin of her wrist, I tell myself it's okay to take advantage of the situation. she came to me, after all, what else was she expecting?

and when she's breathing into my neck - those slow, shaky breaths that tell me she's trying to hold back her sobs - I convince myself that she's better off without him.

no supposed golden boy was ever going to glue back the pieces of her heart.

I would know. I was the one that broke it.

so, when she's tracing her name over my heart, and that warm, dark honey of her eyes is drawing me in, I'm telling myself that this is where she belongs.

that this, me, is her safe haven.

and I know she's never going to leave me.