“Drop the gun; I’m here for you.”
My heart beat is a drum in my chest that seems to vibrate in my blood stream in my ears. I blink a few times, my steps uneven, but I keep the gun up.
I can’t see. I. Can’t. See.
The only thing keeping me anchored from losing my sanity is the gun pointed toward whoever—whatever this person is, something at the edge of my mind urges me to delve into the familiarity, but fear clings on like a reassuring parasite through the darkness that is now my vision.
“Stay back. O-Or I’ll shoot.” I state firmly, my voice certain even as my mind and insides are anything but.
His voice sounds—sounds like a hitch of surprise, “Kvia—
My name. Right—That’s my name. How does he know my name? My thoughts are sharply cut off however when hearing a singular footstep, the gun clicks and I swing my arm to the sound, panic shooting through me and out my throat, “Don’t—Don’t come any closer! I swear—I’ll shoot!”
Blood trickles down my arm, a liquid with a unmistakable coppery smell not only from me but from what I could—I could sense around the room, a pain flaring at the side of of my leg that threats to buckle from the rest of my bodies trembling, the sound of his whispery voice—the tone of it now almost as painful as what’s along my leg.
“Okay, okay, easy now…” He speaks as if to an animal, and I have an overwhelming urge to snap and snarl him a sharp response at his soothing tone.
At the same time, it…washes over me. A sense of trust like a string pulling taut seemingly out of nowhere at the compassion.
And as of the wave washed away my fear, it takes away the pure adrenaline, and I simply and gracefully…
Collapse. Knees finally giving in.
Somehow my knees don’t make it, my gun clattering to the floor as a force of—of wind causes me to pause mid air. A familiar sort of breeze we utter numbness, ache, and drop-dead, born tiring, hole digging exhaustion wafting through me.
The wind is quickly replaced with a warmer presence wrapping around me, and I practically melt in his arms—Erevir’s embrace I could recognize anywhere anytime—even blind, as he gently cupped my face and out his head to my own.
“Star’s, you are to kill me with worry, aren’t you?”
Everyone in this world is born with an other half that supposedly completes them. Supports one another through everything they choose, no matter how negative or positive the outcome may be. Always there for you. A Best Friend.
Well, I personally believe that the whole thing is downright stupid. Why do I have to find someone to lean on, and in return be miserable with me?
No. I’ve learned just how quickly people will drop you like a overused hat the second they find there “best friend”. It’s pathetic. Sad, even, for both parties. I’ve learned to fend for myself for the last 18 years of my life. I’ve stopped making friends, because they don’t treat me like an equal when discovering there marked equal.
The mark of an ‘X’ is a disgusting reminder that the universe thinks we NEED someone there for us, and everyone is fulled by the sweet lies.
And that very mark shows up as I watch the news, though it’s not on my wrist. No. The ‘X’ on the person is surrounded by tattoos, making it almost blend in as one of the back art on his skin, if not for some strange…familiarity that fills my chest. It doesn’t show his face—though—I decide not to check based on what I hear about this person, nor severely invested.
“Man reported for being on Red Notice, name, unknown, but if anyone recognizes his heart or his partners mark for being a suspected accomplice, please report to the police immediately.”
….Sometimes, frick my life.
