Status: A work in progress. Updates may be slow due to school.
Tied
No Fear
Everything felt… warm?
It was like I was cocooned in rays of light, cradled like a child. There were women bending over me, my saints, and I smiled at their touch. They pressed a sword into my hand, the hilt gleaming pure silver, pushing me up. I went willingly, no longer afraid of what was to come, and a flag was draped over my shoulders, red and white and blue, the standard of my beloved France.
“Ne pas avoir peur.” They tell me.
“Pas peur.”
Pas peur…
My alarm called me back from the darkness. I was in no hurry to get up, not today, with the remnants of the dream still blurring the edges of the morning. There was a strange tightness in my back, a sure promise of new words. Feeling strangely tranquil, I wandered over to the mirror and turned. Where my shirt rode up, a phrase was written in the familiar black. I am not afraid... I was born to do this.
I sighed. Why did the words have to be there? It made one of Joan of Arc’s quotes sound like an unoriginal tramp stamp. At least my clothes would cover it. The words on my neck were not easily covered by my hair, so I would have to work on that. There was a lighter scarf hanging in my closet, a pale floral pattern that Raven had given to me for my last birthday. The sentimental side of it could make things slightly more awkward. I didn’t really care anymore. This was how it was going to be, and I wouldn’t cower.
I would be unbreakable.
No fear.
So with renewed vigor, I slapped an extra coat of red on my lips and winged my eyeliner sharp enough to kill someone. There was a skirt in my closet that I had deemed too daring to be worn up to this point, a faux leather skater skirt. It worked surprisingly well with the scarf, a plain v-neck, ripped tights, and converse. Leather and flowers. I liked it. It was like that Shakespeare quote- “Look like th' innocent flower, But be the serpent under ’t.”
My knuckles were a bit bruised from the punch yesterday. It felt like a battle wound. I wouldn’t let someone take advantage of me like that again.
The doorbell rang just as I was finishing my makeup. Grabbing my coffee and book bag, I took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Oh, hey.” Raven said a little breathlessly. Holy shit, she looked good. Her shirt was the same exact shade as my scarf yesterday. Her eyes roamed down to my current apparel, and I could tell she recognized the old birthday gift.
“Hey.” I forced myself to smile normally. No fear. The words on my back were on fire, infusing some sort of molecular courage into my veins. I casually brushed past Raven and out the door, letting my body just barely touch hers. She made a little squeaking sound and jerked. I was already half way to the car when she recovered and hurried after me.
“Did you have pleasant dreams?” Raven asked, and there was something hiding in the undercurrent of her voice, almost like hope.
“Surprisingly, yes. I got a tramp stamp though.”
A little laugh was startled out of her. “Yeah, me too. I mean, I appreciate the chill dream and all, but surely the words could have appeared somewhere else.”
“What did yours say?” I couldn’t help but be curious. She kept glancing at me from the corner of her eye, embarrassed.
“We loved with a love that was more than love…” Raven quoted.
“Wow,” my voice came out a whisper. “that’s… really pretty, and surprisingly deep for a tramp stamp.”
“What was your quote?” She was smiling, more relaxed than before.
“I am not afraid... I was born to do this.”
“Someone’s a bit on the wild side.”
“Oh, shut up.”
I joined in her laughter, and then there was an only slightly awkward silence. We were both fidgeting. I reached over to grab my coffee right as she went to grab her sunglasses, and our hands touched. We both jerked away. She turned on the CD player stiffly. “So, um, how’s AP bio?”
“It’s pretty rough. We have a test on epidemiology tomorrow-” the first few notes of a very familiar song halted my words. “Is this Hozier?”
“Yeah,” Raven didn’t look at me. “I, um, know it’s your favorite, and I had the CD laying around, so.”
“Of course. Thank you.” I smiled at her, and she returned it shyly. It was so unlike her to be shy or hesitant about anything. For the first time I wondered if maybe, just possibly, the affection I felt for her was mutual. Aurore had hinted at it before, but I always thought she was kidding.
The words of my favorite song floated innocently between us as we made the last turn into school, and we sung the words together, under our breath, still not ready to admit how true they felt.
We were born sick, you heard them say it
My church offers no absolution
She tells me 'worship in the bedroom'
The only heaven I'll be sent to
Is when I'm alone with you
It was like I was cocooned in rays of light, cradled like a child. There were women bending over me, my saints, and I smiled at their touch. They pressed a sword into my hand, the hilt gleaming pure silver, pushing me up. I went willingly, no longer afraid of what was to come, and a flag was draped over my shoulders, red and white and blue, the standard of my beloved France.
“Ne pas avoir peur.” They tell me.
“Pas peur.”
Pas peur…
My alarm called me back from the darkness. I was in no hurry to get up, not today, with the remnants of the dream still blurring the edges of the morning. There was a strange tightness in my back, a sure promise of new words. Feeling strangely tranquil, I wandered over to the mirror and turned. Where my shirt rode up, a phrase was written in the familiar black. I am not afraid... I was born to do this.
I sighed. Why did the words have to be there? It made one of Joan of Arc’s quotes sound like an unoriginal tramp stamp. At least my clothes would cover it. The words on my neck were not easily covered by my hair, so I would have to work on that. There was a lighter scarf hanging in my closet, a pale floral pattern that Raven had given to me for my last birthday. The sentimental side of it could make things slightly more awkward. I didn’t really care anymore. This was how it was going to be, and I wouldn’t cower.
I would be unbreakable.
No fear.
So with renewed vigor, I slapped an extra coat of red on my lips and winged my eyeliner sharp enough to kill someone. There was a skirt in my closet that I had deemed too daring to be worn up to this point, a faux leather skater skirt. It worked surprisingly well with the scarf, a plain v-neck, ripped tights, and converse. Leather and flowers. I liked it. It was like that Shakespeare quote- “Look like th' innocent flower, But be the serpent under ’t.”
My knuckles were a bit bruised from the punch yesterday. It felt like a battle wound. I wouldn’t let someone take advantage of me like that again.
The doorbell rang just as I was finishing my makeup. Grabbing my coffee and book bag, I took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Oh, hey.” Raven said a little breathlessly. Holy shit, she looked good. Her shirt was the same exact shade as my scarf yesterday. Her eyes roamed down to my current apparel, and I could tell she recognized the old birthday gift.
“Hey.” I forced myself to smile normally. No fear. The words on my back were on fire, infusing some sort of molecular courage into my veins. I casually brushed past Raven and out the door, letting my body just barely touch hers. She made a little squeaking sound and jerked. I was already half way to the car when she recovered and hurried after me.
“Did you have pleasant dreams?” Raven asked, and there was something hiding in the undercurrent of her voice, almost like hope.
“Surprisingly, yes. I got a tramp stamp though.”
A little laugh was startled out of her. “Yeah, me too. I mean, I appreciate the chill dream and all, but surely the words could have appeared somewhere else.”
“What did yours say?” I couldn’t help but be curious. She kept glancing at me from the corner of her eye, embarrassed.
“We loved with a love that was more than love…” Raven quoted.
“Wow,” my voice came out a whisper. “that’s… really pretty, and surprisingly deep for a tramp stamp.”
“What was your quote?” She was smiling, more relaxed than before.
“I am not afraid... I was born to do this.”
“Someone’s a bit on the wild side.”
“Oh, shut up.”
I joined in her laughter, and then there was an only slightly awkward silence. We were both fidgeting. I reached over to grab my coffee right as she went to grab her sunglasses, and our hands touched. We both jerked away. She turned on the CD player stiffly. “So, um, how’s AP bio?”
“It’s pretty rough. We have a test on epidemiology tomorrow-” the first few notes of a very familiar song halted my words. “Is this Hozier?”
“Yeah,” Raven didn’t look at me. “I, um, know it’s your favorite, and I had the CD laying around, so.”
“Of course. Thank you.” I smiled at her, and she returned it shyly. It was so unlike her to be shy or hesitant about anything. For the first time I wondered if maybe, just possibly, the affection I felt for her was mutual. Aurore had hinted at it before, but I always thought she was kidding.
The words of my favorite song floated innocently between us as we made the last turn into school, and we sung the words together, under our breath, still not ready to admit how true they felt.
We were born sick, you heard them say it
My church offers no absolution
She tells me 'worship in the bedroom'
The only heaven I'll be sent to
Is when I'm alone with you
♠ ♠ ♠
The French means "Have no fear." and "no fear", respectively. The lyrics are from the song "Take Me to Church" by Hozier (the music video is amazing- trigger warning for violence).I'm not sure how frequent updates will be for a few days, as I'll be at the beach. Thanks for reading lovelies, and feel free to comment.