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HILLS, DIVOTS, AND peaks were all amidst the surface. They churned into waves as the light streaked across. Their shadows pulled from its base and grew, then it went back. The shadows muddled into congregations of squares half filled with black clouds and the other light. She blinked, the cast of the knight's umbra moved, and then sprouted legs before tumbling across the valley. The air was simultaneously cool and scalding against her skin, there was a sticky dew of sweat that stuck to dermal folds and crevices. Her fingers were running over her upper arm, callous skin running across valleys some wider and plateaued, others deep and sharp.
The quiet stillness was left sitting like oily residue on the cloth. She took another breath, her eyes unmoving from the ceiling, she could feel the burn of her eyes as they looked at the glitch of crafted plaster mobilizing into artifice and creatures tumbling through the landscape. She blinked again, freezing their motion, and the door's squeak made her look toward the emptying darkness. Her fingers curled and fisted, her body was frozen, and her eyes still watched the dim figure in the dark. For a moment she thought she saw the outline of the boy with the combed-back tufts of hair, and crisp uniform coming to pick her up for another session with Ms. Pottsworth.
The floorboards squeaked, and the dim light that came from the window lit the outline of the figure in the dark. Her limbs were frozen until she felt the dip at the foot of the bed. The familiar texture of curly hair skimmed against her arm. Like an armadillo curling into itself, she felt his body curl into hers, his hands clutching at her shirt. She felt a slight tremor as her hand ran delicate circles along his back. It could have been her hand. The warmth through his shirt contrasted greatly with the chill that frosted her skin. The dreamlike haze cleared, and she felt the severity of his jittering muscles. Her arm wrapped around his shoulders a loose enough hold for him to move but firm where he knew she was there.
"Everett," she said but wasn't met with any response, so she held him a little longer. She could feel him rocking back and forth with small motions against her. His hands fisted the cloth of her shirt tightly. She pulled her neck back to look at him, his eyes were squeezed shut, tear tracks against his cheeks. Her hand found his shoulder gripping firmly without too much pressure, trying to make him look up at her but the tremors seemed to increase. He was muttering words that were broken, unclear amidst the company of shuttering drags of phonetics.
I didn't mean to...
I didn't mean to Mama...
Orianna's eyes softened she felt a tight fist close around her heart something so overwhelming she could feel the burn of tears prick at her eyes as she watched him beaten dry by the shadows of the past. Her thumb brushed gentle circles against his shoulder. "Everett," her voice sounded gentler and more tamed even though she could feel her breath catch in the back of her throat. It took him a couple of minutes, but he looked up at her meeting her eyes, his were glossed over and misty—unseeing.
