Status: breathing
Collisione
collision three
They lived in intervals.
The vase smashed right behind him, chips of ceramic sprinkling the floor. It was all a whisper compared to her heart-ached yells. “You goddamned-” she tried to breathe, but her lungs filled with rage instead. “You thought I’d never find out?!” Hurling a heel and a remote she collapsed on the creamy couch in a fit of tears. “Why don’t you love me-” choking and sniffling and – “as much as I love you?”
His soft breaths followed her every sob, his eyes stinging with guilt and regret. He gently sat beside her, his hands inept and clumsy. He didn’t know what to say anymore. His rasped apologies and forgive me’s were pathetic and stupid. He knew. She continued pouring her soul into the palm of her hands, every stuttered heave a thorn in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. This was it. His hand tentatively touched her back and she sniffed loudly.
“Don’t.”
She tried to wipe away the tears, but they wouldn’t cease. She howled and screamed and tried to shove him away when he pulled her in. “Bastard, ungrateful. Why. Why.” She blundered on and on, her fists making contact with his chin and shoulders, every scream punctuated with a blow. He took every hit and kissed her forehead, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t see the tear that dripped onto her forehead.
“Alessa.” He tried to bury his face into her hair, inhaling everything she was. She didn’t smell like chocolate or mint or vanilla. She smelled like Alessa. Beautiful and quirky and fragile. “We’ll fix this.” He sucked in his lips and hoped she didn’t hear the fissure between his words. Instead he hoped she could hear the broken rhythm of his heart. “I’ll fix this.” His voice wasn’t strong or promising. It was feeble and pathetic but that’s what she needed.
She needed to know he was just as fragile as she was.
The vase smashed right behind him, chips of ceramic sprinkling the floor. It was all a whisper compared to her heart-ached yells. “You goddamned-” she tried to breathe, but her lungs filled with rage instead. “You thought I’d never find out?!” Hurling a heel and a remote she collapsed on the creamy couch in a fit of tears. “Why don’t you love me-” choking and sniffling and – “as much as I love you?”
His soft breaths followed her every sob, his eyes stinging with guilt and regret. He gently sat beside her, his hands inept and clumsy. He didn’t know what to say anymore. His rasped apologies and forgive me’s were pathetic and stupid. He knew. She continued pouring her soul into the palm of her hands, every stuttered heave a thorn in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. This was it. His hand tentatively touched her back and she sniffed loudly.
“Don’t.”
She tried to wipe away the tears, but they wouldn’t cease. She howled and screamed and tried to shove him away when he pulled her in. “Bastard, ungrateful. Why. Why.” She blundered on and on, her fists making contact with his chin and shoulders, every scream punctuated with a blow. He took every hit and kissed her forehead, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t see the tear that dripped onto her forehead.
“Alessa.” He tried to bury his face into her hair, inhaling everything she was. She didn’t smell like chocolate or mint or vanilla. She smelled like Alessa. Beautiful and quirky and fragile. “We’ll fix this.” He sucked in his lips and hoped she didn’t hear the fissure between his words. Instead he hoped she could hear the broken rhythm of his heart. “I’ll fix this.” His voice wasn’t strong or promising. It was feeble and pathetic but that’s what she needed.
She needed to know he was just as fragile as she was.