Sequel: You Don't Love Me ›
Desinence
Anna
She doesn’t know what to say anymore. After all this time, there are no more words between the two of them. They’ve all been said and now they’re just sitting in silence and she just wishes he would leave.
Blake took his jacket off at some point, and the broad line of his shoulders keeps drawing her gaze. There’s a sort of restrained anger in the way he’s sitting, with his hands clasped in front of him, knuckles white from gripping so hard. There’s the slightest tremor down his back, the subtlest shifting of his body towards hers and without even thinking, she moves to match it.
She was always so attuned to him, so aware of everything he did. She would move herself, her life to fit his, conform herself around him. She just cared so much and maybe that was always the problem. She cared too much and he didn’t care quite enough.
“Anna, I-“ his throaty voice faltered for a second and he groaned. The hands that were previously clasped in front of him break apart to run through his shaggy black hair. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
She brings her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, hugs them close to her body as if to hold her heart together. She leans her cheek against the tops of her knees, turns to look at him through the cascade of blonde curls that falls across her face.
His piercing blue eyes are watching her every move with an intensity she’d never seen from him before. The gaze is so strong that she has to look away and it hurts her to do so.
“I think you should go.”
It’s like her words released him and he rushes up from his chair to sit next to her on the tattered green couch. When his hands reach out to touch hers, she shrinks back. If his skin brushes hers, every ounce of her willpower will be shattered.
“No, Blake. It’s over.”
Blake took his jacket off at some point, and the broad line of his shoulders keeps drawing her gaze. There’s a sort of restrained anger in the way he’s sitting, with his hands clasped in front of him, knuckles white from gripping so hard. There’s the slightest tremor down his back, the subtlest shifting of his body towards hers and without even thinking, she moves to match it.
She was always so attuned to him, so aware of everything he did. She would move herself, her life to fit his, conform herself around him. She just cared so much and maybe that was always the problem. She cared too much and he didn’t care quite enough.
“Anna, I-“ his throaty voice faltered for a second and he groaned. The hands that were previously clasped in front of him break apart to run through his shaggy black hair. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
She brings her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, hugs them close to her body as if to hold her heart together. She leans her cheek against the tops of her knees, turns to look at him through the cascade of blonde curls that falls across her face.
His piercing blue eyes are watching her every move with an intensity she’d never seen from him before. The gaze is so strong that she has to look away and it hurts her to do so.
“I think you should go.”
It’s like her words released him and he rushes up from his chair to sit next to her on the tattered green couch. When his hands reach out to touch hers, she shrinks back. If his skin brushes hers, every ounce of her willpower will be shattered.
“No, Blake. It’s over.”
♠ ♠ ♠
SO DEPRESSING. MY GOD.