~Her words were my poison. I used them to consume myself.
Disturbingly honest. Painfully strained. Carefully penned down. Dangerously addictive.~
A journal that landed in the right hands and told a whole story with words, no lips could speak.
Two...
Today someone told me to live my life like a mortal would--like I know it's not forever. I'm pretty sure it was just some half decent advice by a vampire but that doesn't matter.
What matters is that it made me realise something.
Living life to the fullest is all about the little things.
It's about feeling each smile as it finds its way to your lips. It's about warm baths, soft cuddles and chicken nuggets.
And sometimes it's about getting bored out of your mind because your education demands it.
It's still considered as living because you can't force life.
You can't force it to work a certain way.
You can't force adventure and as frustrating as that is, it's also kinda soothing.
It's comforting.
Knowing that I don't have all the power. That it's technically not all on me to make each day some sort of magnificent adventure.
That all I have to do is allow myself to feel every moment. To feel time as it passes.
All I have to really do to live is feel.
The nature of the feeling isn't important. It just has to exist in some way, shape or form and it's okay if it's not the strongest of feelings.
It could just be something soft.
Something silent.
Something that hardly feels real.
The words blurred into each other by the time I got to the end of the page. My brain still couldn't fully process the world.
So I decided to start with something simple. The journal.
I stumbled on to my feet. Dragging them to the kitchen.
"Draxy, hey, you're awake." P whispered with a smile.
I could tell she was scared. I silently scanned her body for any visibly bruises.
"Did I hurt you?" My voice was hoarse, throaty.
She shook her head.
"What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk to you."
"P--I'm sorry, I don't think I can talk right now--"
"I know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed like you needed someone."
"How long have you been here?"
"About six hours?"
"Was I drunk when you got here?" I whispered.
She nodded.
"Fuck." I muttered under my breath.
"Draxy, you're not okay, are you?"
I didn't know how to respond to that. She already knew.
"It's okay, come here." She came towards me and hugged me.
"I'm sorry." I whispered.
Her fingers gently went over my back. It was almost so soft I didn't feel it.
We were both unbelievably quiet. I kissed the top of her head, silently thanking her for being there.
I felt my heart beat rapidly as she brushed her fingers against my neck.
Her body pulled away from mine.
She placed a hand on my cheek and gently touched my lips. Neither one of us understood what we were doing. It just sort of felt right I guess?
She brought her lips in line with mine.
I felt her lips on mine.
Oh fuck.
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