𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲

⊳ 𝐯. lull of a lie

She could hear the wildlife around her, slowly chirping and talking to one another as she sat on the edge of the bed. Sleep hadn't been her friend in a long time, but especially now it seemed to evade her. Arms that once lulled her to sleep now seemed like prison bars so she had to escape.

Her eyes searched all around the room, looking for something, anything, and coming up with nothing. Soft snores were heard, and she tried to ignore it, because she needed to ignore it. She couldn't take it anymore.

It was impossible to tell how long she had been sitting up, because sitting up was better than lying down and having that body right next to her, so enticing but so captive. She didn't want to be captive anymore, but the rush of lust grasped at her, wanting to touch the body, hold the body, and have them hold her.

"Cal?" she blinked, not knowing that they had woken up until she turned, seeing Red sit up. She looked so concerned, so worried, with a small frown present on her face. She ached to lean in, kiss the frown off her face, tell another little lie, and go back to bed, chained and clawing for escape.

"Go back to sleep," she told Red, because she didn't want to hear her voice, she didn't want to be dragged down under the covers, kept there forever.

Red shook her head. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything."

She closed her eyes, it felt impossible to say anything. What was she supposed to say? She didn't want to yell in the midnight hours, and she didn't want to scream, she didn't want to leave. She just wanted Red to sleep, and she would stay awake, staring around the room until finally the sun rose and she would go downstairs and get breakfast. She just wanted it all to stop.

"I know," she sighed, nodding a little, hoping that this would be the end.

Sadly, it wasn't, and Red reached forward to grab her hand, holding it limply in her own, drawing circles with her thumb into the back of it. "So tell me," she said softly, always so softly, "What's wrong?"

She should say it, shouldn't she? Just rip it off, just say it and then it's open in the air? She should...but could she?

She smiled, sadly and gently, at Red, and drew her into a kiss. A small one, a sad one, and Red seemed to know exactly what she meant by it.

"I don't want to keep lying," she confessed, "I want – I need you to tell the truth so that we don't have to keep lying."

Red frowned, "Who's lying?"

It was almost real, almost so genuine, almost enough to make her forget it and shook her head before crawling back into bed. Almost. But not enough.

"You are. I am. It's all a lie, and you know it, but you pretend not to. I'm just so tired of pretending," she lamented, slouching and crumbling all the same.

Red's arms wrapped around her, and for a moment she felt comforted, and for a second it all felt so real. "I'm not lying," Red said, "I love you."

There was so much conviction in her tone, and Calypso almost believed her again. She wanted to, desperately, because someone loving her was such a nice thought, but she didn't believe it. No one else believed a word Red said, so how could she? How could she believe that this was all genuine, and that Red really did love her?

"I love you," Red repeated, firmer, "Now come back to bed."

She almost protested, opened her mouth for it before closing it, and shaking her head. It wasn't worth fighting, was it? At least someone pretending to love her was better than knowing no one did – or ever could.

"Alright," she relented, and Red brought their lips together again to seal it, and then allowed her to move back under the covers.

She was too tired to fight, to leave, to scream and yell even though she wanted to. She was too tired, so she went back into the arms that felt like prison bars, and she stayed there, praying for sleep and comfort, knowing it would never come.