Knuckleball || Seth Clearwater

002: Entombed

No, Seth beseeched internally, his hands desperately grasping at handfuls of heavy, dark, empty water. Please, please...Please don't let my home be her burial ground. Whatever god is listening, please-

In an act of heedless desperation, Seth then tried to scent the girl. Nostrils flared, mouth wide- he foolishly tried to breathe in a gaping taste of her delicious scent. Why he thought scenting someone where air physically did not exist was a good idea, he would never know. Maybe it was his overwhelming sense of despair or the lack of oxygen circulating to his brain, but either way the rash decision was idiotic. Because the only response that he got to his ludicrous attempt was mouthful of cold, salty water that stung his nostrils and gums.

Jesus Christ, everything is burning.

Was his imprint experiencing the same discomfort and suffering that he was? Were her lungs begging for reprieve, only to be filled with brackish, briny seawater that scorched her airways? Was she drowning? Was she suffering?

Seth could feel his heart and this newfound soul of his torturously convulsing in anguish as such gut-wrenching thoughts surged through his psyche.

If the sea wanted retribution so viciously, why not claim him instead? Why not drag him into its depths to live out a cold, cruel rest of the eternity shackled to its darkness below instead of her? He would gladly take her place beneath the ocean's guillotine if it meant she made it out of this okay.

Why, why, why?

Why did I chase her? Why did I scare her? Why didn't I do something differently?

"That was rather short-lived. Poor Seth."  The heart-wrenching words of Brady echoed in his mind.

No, no, no.

She can't be gone, she just got here.

She's going to be gone and she just got here.

And I don't even know her name.

The throbbing intensified excruciatingly at the thought, bringing forth another memory of her laying peacefully below him the meadow only minutes ago, those enormous doe eyes glistening up at him through thick dark lashes that melted beautifully with the warm chocolate brown of her irises. She looked so peaceful in the millisecond between her waking and her realizing he was looming above her, devouring every ounce of her existence like a starving man finding sustenance for the first time in his life.

She was just there: so serenely, so beautifully. Like some sort of forest fairy sleeping in the woods, just waiting for him to stumble across her and have his heart stolen.

And now she was struggling beneath the surface of a vehement storm surge, fading in and out of blackness due to her own fear of him. To go from such contrasting situations in such little time nearly gave Seth some sort of sardonic whiplash. From such warm rays of sun to such glacial darkness- it was almost as if they'd entered separate realms the moment they each took the leap of faith from the top of the diving cliff.

All because she had surmised that the roaring, black water below was a far better fate than what could've ever been beheld by him.

And he didn't blame her. Not one bit.

It was obvious someone had hurt her- exponentially at that. Those marks woven throughout her translucent skin told a story far more clearly than any words ever could.

His heart ached for her to run into his arms despite any situation, but he could tell that something- or someone- had rendered that possibility unfeasible for now.

And now, would she die without ever feeling true love and tenderness? The warmth of an embrace meant to comfort and croon? Would she drift off into a final sleep cold, dark, alone,  with only the memories of her previous ordeal to grasp at for comfort?

No memories of his mother fretting over her frail body and forcing homecooked meals down her throat. No memories of Leah bewildering them all because their terse beta treats this strange girl with such warmth. No memories of the pack becoming her family- loving her, protecting her, making her laugh.