Unpredictable - (tristan evans)

Let Me Fall

Neither of them wanted to stay in the cramped little room; for him it was too full of ghosts, for her it was the lack of light. But she was getting used to shadows. They ended up wandering the streets, winding their way through a maze both familiar and unfamiliar, and they simply let their unconsciousness take over. Losing track of what day it was, only guessing at the time as the sun climbed and dipped, over and over in an endless sky.

“Tell me, Tristan,” she began, absent-mindedly playing with his hair, her gentle fingers teasing out the long ignored tangles, “what do you believe in?”

They were sitting on her window ledge, his head in her lap as she watched the grass sway far below her dangling legs.

It would be so easy.

She shook herself hard, pulling Tristan closer to her in a sudden chill of fear. He held her hand tight in both of his, pressed it to his lips as though he knew what she was thinking, what they were all thinking, and she smiled, no longer surprised by the way he always seemed to know what thoughts were racing through her head.

What do you believe in? His brow furrowed as he considered the question carefully, eyes searching the skies for inspiration. But he spoke his own thoughts out loud.

“I believe in death, I believe in ghosts, I believe in blankness and nothing and everything at the same time. I believe in hell, but I don’t believe in heaven. I believe-”

“That’s not very promising.” She cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips to stem the frightening rush of words. Scared to hear what the next would be.

She dared not say it aloud, but somehow she knew he was thinking along the same lines.

I believe in love.

Without warning he was on his feet, balancing easily on the wide ledge as his unbuttoned shirt fluttered in the wind. He smiled down at her, his tattoos a deepening bruise staining his pale skin, and to her the smile seemed sad despite the warm glow in his eyes as he held out his hand. She let him pull her up to stand beside him and the ground swayed sickeningly beneath her feet. Living a little closer to the end of the world.

He looked as relaxed as if he were merely standing beside the road, safe on the scarred black tarmac below them. But his voice was low and fierce, his hands desperate in the way they clung to her.

“Save me.” He whispered. And she was shocked to see genuine fear burning deep in his eyes.

“From what?”

“Myself.”

His arms constricted around her, and in a flicker of pain that went deeper than anything she had ever known before she realized that she was the only thing holding him together, the only thing keeping him from losing himself completely. His mouth opened to let fall the words she had no time to hear, muffled by her lips as she pulled his head down to hers in a clamorous storm that left them both reeling.

And suddenly she felt her feet slip, balance shifting in a terrifying whirl of colour as the scream stuck in the back of her throat. She saw Tristan, saw the final glimmer of a jewel blue sky, and then there was nothing else behind her, and she was falling. Falling through nothingness. She stretched her hand out, grasped only empty air as it whipped past her, squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the shattering impact that would end it all.

But impossibly quick, another hand reached out and caught her, assured strength in his fingers as he locked them around hers. Trembling, she dared not moved for a long, drawn out moment, but eventually prised her eyes open and stared around her in wide-eyed disbelief. She felt her thin shirt clinging to her skin, shook off the hair that whipped itself into her mouth and stung her eyes, felt herself hanging by a thread.

She looked up at Tristan, bracing himself against the ledge as he easily held her weight, silent.

And she framed one single thought.

Let me fall.

Still he held her, fingers around her wrist tightening until they were almost painful.

Please, Tristan.

He closed his eyes.

Let me fall.

Let me fall.

She felt a shudder that rocked his entire frame and when he opened his eyes again, she thought she could see straight into his soul and even further beyond that.

Let me fall.

But he shook his head. Not today, his eyes seemed to plead with her, not now.

Tristan.

“Never.” He took a deep breath and swiftly pulled her up, swinging her back into his arms with ease. He took a shaky step towards her bed and collapsed, refusing to let go even as his muscles burned and the very air choked him.

“I’m sorry,” she held him just as tight, “that was fucking stupid.”

He didn’t answer, trapped somewhere no other could reach, still not fully recovered as terrifying images formed and tore apart and formed again in his mind.

Almost lost her.

Almost lost her.

Almost killed her.

Gradually the warmth of her hands drew him back, allowed him the sweet serenity of blankness. She reached into his pocket and found the spare cigarette and lighter he always carried tucked away for emergencies, lit it quickly and watched as the flames ate away at the defenceless thing to render it smoking charred grey and black and glowing amber. She almost took a drag herself but tenderly held it to his lips first, watching carefully as his eyes slowly dulled, and bit by bit retained their sanity.

He smiled gratefully at her, hiding a smirk as she tried it herself, their close call forgotten already.

“Smoking kills.” He reminded her.

They laughed.

sorry this took a while to update, i was away meeting the very person this fanfic is about believe it or not !!!! 

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