(c) Reflections. [PG-13]

by tea-boy. Fri 14 Aug 2009, 7:41 am

Title: Reflections.
Rating: PG-13
Author: Me.
Genre: Original Fiction.
Status: One-shot.
Summary/Excerpt: About an easting disorder.
And a love desperately trying to overcome it.
1,322 words.

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I find you as I usually do, standing in front of that mirror. Its golden edges had long since started to peel, and scratches were strewn about the glass. And you, you and your dusty figure, you stared at it all your days. Green eyes roaming arbitrarily across your mirror image, scrutiny so evident in your position, it’s such a simple act, a silent act. And I, I can do nothing. The floorboards creak as I walk across them and you turn around. There is such softness in your sorrowful eyes as you look at me. We knew the same stale air that surrounded us; we knew the same intangible monster that tormented the silence between our bodies.

I can’t help but run my coarse hand through your hair, I can’t help pressing us closer and leaning on you, I can’t help but kiss your cheek so fair and smooth. But as soon as I do this, I close my eyes with regret. I am blinded, but I can see the familiar droplets forming around the creases of your eyes, I can see your hair move ever so slightly as you turn back around. I can see you look so hard at the mirror, trying to get it to change something, anything, or maybe just to suck you in with it. I can see you praying that it will give you some of the tainted beauty it reflects in its faded state. And I can see you closing your eyes, just as I, and falling so hard from your hopes that something will change in the mirror that so perfectly poisoned your mind.

And this is where my role starts, this is where my eyes will open for the first time, this is where I stand my final battle against the monster filling through the dusty air. This is where I will try for the final time to be everything you need and everything you need to hear. So, instead of walking away, down the creaky winding stairs as I always did, I step forward.

Amidst the purity of your crumbling frame, I see the darkness of this thickly tangled in your soul, a sight so sad for such an angel. I gently wrap my arms around you from behind and your breath hitches, such a noticeable break from our intricate tango. And as I rest my head in the crook of your neck, I can feel questions burning beneath your skin, you are so confused.

But still, my new presence does not stop you from sharply turning your eyes back to the mirror. The damaged glass drawing you from me, and this time I’m determined that there is something I can do to stop it. I rack my mind, desperate for an answer, for a cure, but I find nothing, I can think of nothing. And so I sink, partially defeated, and hope that my hands running across the fabric of your shirt helps somehow.

“Why?”

It’s the only thing that can come from my mind in this moment, it’s the only answer I don’t have, the only thing I can’t grasp. And you, you with your doe eyes, you just look at my face reflected in the mirror and sigh. I hand my head and bury my face into your skin. It’s so easy to find comfort in hiding, so hard to lift my head, but I do, because I will fight for you against this invisible force, I made a promise

I lift my hand up and pull a piece of hair behind your ear that has fallen in front of your face. You grin slightly. And everything feels okay for a moment, but the great deception fills out hearts just as quickly as it left.

“Why?” I ask again

“Because,” you pause, “Because everything is wrong.”

My heart falls a bit, because this is something I do not understand. And try as I may, I never will. I can never grasp the thoughts that flow through your head; I will never comprehend the toxic thoughts this mirror instills in your peaceful creek of a mind. And I will never understand how you could do this to yourself. I turn my unfocused vision towards the floorboards.

“You never smile anymore,” I whisper, looking past the endless stretch of wood, “Ever.”

And all you can do is purse your lips for a moment before sighing because you know I’m right. I feel like we’re disintegrating. Right here, we’re turning to ash in each other’s arms. I feel like crying, like I so often do over your state, over our state, but most of all because I love you. Because when you hurt, I hurt. And your sorrows makes me sadder than my own ever could.

And all of this is just rapidly whirling through my head so loud as we stand here in our stillness, calm and collected. It’s almost eerie to snap back to present tense, thick silence engulfing us. You look so torn in that mirror. I’m desperate for something to ease your pain, draw all of this self-hate from you. And you see this in my mirror image, my eyes franticly searching my mind for a cure. I turn you around, because the mirror is done speaking for us.

“What do you hate?”

“Everything.”

“Specifics.”

You pause, “My legs.”

So I get down on my knees. You, perplexed, say nothing.

“I could never hate these legs, you know why? They’re a comfort. When I wake up with my legs intertwined with yours, everything is beautiful. And I want to spend all of my days entangled with you, I want to wake up every morning with you pressed against me.”

I kiss your calve softly.

“What else?”

You are confused, but oblige my request.

“My stomach.”

And so I move up a bit, lifting your shirt a little above the belly button.

“I could never hate your stomach. It reminds me of out most fun days. When I would give you a raspberry and then you would tickle me until I cried with laughter and everything was okay.”

I kiss your stomach just as gently.

“What else?”

At this point, you’re just listening. No emotion dawns on your face, besides the visible signs of your mind figuring out what to make of this.

“My arms.”

I move up once again, standing straight once more.

“Your arms I could never hate. They wrap around me so warm in the frigid winters of this world and my heart. I only ever feel same when they encircle me wholly.”

I plant a line of kisses from your fingertip to your elbow.

“What else?”

“My face.”

“My darling,” I begin, running my hand down your face, “Your face is light of my days. I can never be sad when I see it. I could stay lost in your eyes for all eternity and be happy. You have the face of an angel.”

And it’s at this that the tears pool in my eye and my voice cracks.

“I love you so much, beyond any words, and I need you with me all my days,” I say, kissing your temple.

You are lost, trying to catch and obtain every word, trying to comprehend. But you can’t. You can’t comprehend how much I love you or how much life this mirror sucks from you. I turn you around, to face your dearest of friends, and lay my head back in the crook of your neck.

“I don’t have a cure for this; I wouldn’t give you it if I did. Because even though I’m here to fight for you, with you; you alone can decide how this story ends. I can’t make you get help or banish this monster from your veins, but know that I love you with everything I have and I will be there by your side for all of eternity.”