asphyxiate

10｜sob

10
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"sob"

THEIR eyes remained locked even after he released her hands to draw back the sleeves of his white shirt. The movement slow, but steady as his inked forearms became visible.

There was nothing except silence between them as they stayed in the same position. Harte kneeling in front of her, as she remained frozen on the bed. Her head was slightly hunched over, making her soft hair fall like curtains over her face, but from Harte's angle he could see every inch of her face - the face she did not want anyone to see.

Her eyes were wide, scared and vivid, her lips parted even though she was not breathing. Watching Harte in front of her, having him see the raw state she was in, she felt as if she was asphyxiating.

She wanted to tell him it was the voices whispering in her head, she wanted to tell him the pain was getting so unbearable that she felt blinded and deaf. None of that mattered in the end though, as there was one thing she wanted to tell him above all - she wanted to tell him the truth. The reason, the heartache, the pain, the torment and the failure that had made her become this fraction of herself.

She desperately wanted to tell him the words that were trapped in her throat, clogging up her airways.

As if he already knew, his lips twitched into a smile - a mellow and reassuring smile. However, sadness was rolling onto his features too, as he had now managed to roll both of his sleeves back. He took his time and grabbed onto both of her hands again.

"Eve, breathe," he whispered silently and a caressing squeeze to her cold hands accompanied his plead making her let out a long, ragged breath before her airways closed off again, hindering a sob to spill forward.

Harte, himself took a deep breath, his warm gaze dropping from hers for a moment as if he was to collect himself before he looked back into her unblinking ones.

It was as if he did not have the words either, but he did not have to, as one was enough.

"Look," he ran his fingers over her palm, causing her gaze to fall from his and look down onto their intertwined hands.

His hands were big, slender and smooth and cradling her small fragile ones. She knew her hands would be trembling if it was not for his unwavering hold. 

She let out another superficial breath as she knew he would not run away. He was here and so he would be. In her lap was not one but two hands offering her the comfort she had so devotedly begged for all this time.

All they asked was that she in return looked at him and so her eyes wandered away from his strong hands.

Once again, she eyed his tattoos, their breathtaking lines, their stories and their symbolisms, but she knew that was not what he meant as they had one more feature, one more reason as to why they were there.

And so she looked beyond.

She looked and saw the beautiful markings were also a disguise - a shield, because behind those tantalizing illustrations lay an even deeper story.

As she looked on she could not deny that she was no better than the people that had walked indifferently past her.

She had been yet just another one, not daring to really look. She wanted someone to really look at her, but no one saw her struggle. No one saw her scars. No one saw her bleeding. No one saw her tears. No one saw her depression. They never realized the deep waters she swam, but he did. 

After all, he had been treading the waters too.

He had seen her clearly from the very first glance, and now she saw him too. She saw the scars that lingered under his edgy exterior. She saw he was battling demons too, but unlike her he had been fighting.

He was fighting and as her gaze found his again, she knew he was winning too. However watching him, this beautiful guy in front of her - the guy that seemed collected and honest was damaged too made the floodgates in her mind burst open.

All it took was for her to realize she was not alone and so she let out ragged breaths, words spilling out with them, forming incoherent sentences at first, but as she continued to talk the more easy her breathing became. She spilled everything, her secrets, her pain and her thoughts - everything as nothing would no longer remain buried. They wanted out in the open. They wanted closure.

So as she talked, she felt a sudden relief wash over her filling up her insides with renewed strength. She talked until she became hoarse, but for once there was a certain satisfaction along with it.

She did not even care as trapped tears finally made their way down her cheeks, their saltiness mixing with her words as she spoke making her confession even more purifying to her soul.

She felt clean again, as if the darkness could not trap her anymore as there was now light ahead.

Ready to relish in it and enjoy her newfound sanctuary she did not prevent Harte holding her close in his embrace as they were enveloping each other on the bed. Furthermore she did not question as his lips moved to hers.

She felt tingles that stirred her whole body, sending electricity through every vein, waking up every inch of her body. She drowned herself in the kiss, the comforting feel of not being alone and even more importantly the redemption that came along with it.

Harte made her heart stutter. She felt herself latching onto him and making him her life line, and so he became her savior.

There was only one thing left as she pulled away to let the fresh air inhabit her system, lubricating it with a new life force - the fact that when she opened her eyes, he was not there.

But he was.

"You're okay, Eve. You're okay," he kept repeating but in vain. Continuous slaps to her already beaten body came with every word that spilled from his mouth. Nothing he could ever say to her would make a difference. Whatever he said would not make it alright, and whatever he did would not make a difference.

It would not change the fact that Harte had never been there.

She panted as she came to terms with the ruthless games played on her mind, while being on the soaking floor of the swimming center with her tormentor towering over her.

She knew as soon as she had opened her eyes the kiss that been too good to be true, but never had she imagined life would be this cruel and throw her back into the arms of the man that stripped it from her in the first place.

"No, I'm not okay! Get away from me!" She let out a cry, as she clawed at her throat while trying to obscure the source of her downward spiral - even more so to try and go back to before. She wanted to see the presence who had prevented the darkness that was once again threatening to consume her. She wanted to go back to the embrace of the presence that told her someone cared.

Yet, that was something she could not do, because he was not there.

He never had been, because Quinn Harte was nothing but a dream of her heart.

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A/N: Did you see that one coming?

Have you ever had a dream so vivid you could not comprehend it was not true? A dream so crystal clear you want it to be real?