O is for Opiate #AtoZChallenge

Are you done yet, he asks. His face is full of kindness, shadowed with sorrow.

What with? She doesn't look at him. Cannot look at him.

You use bitterness as an opiate. Do you feel any better?

No. Nothing feels better. It just feels as if she is falling apart.

Come. He reaches out his hands.

She takes them, studies the scars. She lets go.

Come, he repeats.

What else would you suggest?

He kneels before her, taking her hands. That you open your eyes. 

My eyes are open.

Harsh truths. A gentle whisper. Yet you do not see. 

I see too much. She wishes she didn't. Wishes she could turn back time to five years ago, ten years ago, when everything was simple and hopeful and bright.

He smiles, sorrow and kindness mingled still. No, you see much but you do not see enough. You cannot look beyond, because your eyes are fixed on what you lack. 

I still lack.

But is that what you really need?

She sits still, silent.

You can only live in a stupor for so long. 

Tomorrow, she finally says, ask me again tomorrow.

#fridayflash: Breathe

"You're angry." A statement. Not a question.

She didn't reply.

"You're spiralling." Another statement.

A flash of something. Dark. Hard. Angry. "What of it?"

"Why?"

Did it matter? Did anything really matter? She shrugged off the hand that was slowly creeping onto her shoulder.

He tucked his hands away. "I didn't do anything."

"That's precisely it."

"What are you really accusing me of?"

She shook her head. She didn't know. Didn't know anymore. All she knew was that tight fist of anger nestled beneath her breasts, the stiff clench of hatred settled along her jawline, the burning fire of resentment in her belly, that wouldn't go away. Wouldn't abate. Wouldn't be quenched.

"Did I promise you anything?"

The word fell from her lips like bitter medicine. "No."

"Then why are you angry?"

Because I'm tired. Because I'm lonely. Because I'm afraid. Because I'm stuck here, one step forward, two steps back, and everyone is leaving. Because I'm not enough. I'm never enough. 

He stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and this time, she didn't push him away. "Breathe."

#fridayflash: Rest

She stood on the edge, her arms spread wide. The wind lifted her hair off the nape of her neck, tying it in tangles. She tilted her head back, the sunlight falling on her eyelids, glinting off the tears on her head that belied the smile on her lips.
She didn't know how she could be so certain and yet so unsure; so wild and yet so steady. Like she was two different people, warring with each other and yet inexplicably at peace.
It was conflicting. Confusing.
And yet strangely clear.
He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, enveloping her with the smell of earth. Grass. Freshness. Life.
"Ready. Are you?"
She smiled nervously in reply.
"It's okay."
She dropped her hands to his, nails digging into the back of his hands, drawing strength from his warmth, from his grip. "I don't know if I'll ever be ready. But I guess that this is the best that I can do for now."
"I love you," he whispered into her ear.