“MOMMY LOVES YOU TOO—” SMOTHERS IN KIS S SES.
[ indie oc | crossover friendly | rules first, please! ]
currently on INDEFINITE HIATUS.
“MOMMY LOVES YOU TOO—” SMOTHERS IN KIS S SES.
Pfft — of course, to be under a similar state as his own, any sentence proved to be the funniest she’d ever heard. A slap to the knee is made; the laughter’s so severe that another coat of crimson dusts atop cherry cheeks.
“I’m as think as I drunk I am too—! Mama’s so proud of you — ugh, I’m gonna puke… Oh! How about I give you a piggyback ride all the way home? All aboard Flight F-E-Y. Ahaha!”
▓ ♛ ▓ ▬
it was easy to feel the woman’s tightening grip around the girl’s legs, petite arms encircling just a tad bit more around the CEO’s neck as the mimic continued to watch the scenery go by at a quickened pace. If Fey’s words of stamina were true, she was certainly doing a magnificent job of masking her exhaustion. Even with the gentle pace the two were traveling, the woman’s grip did not lighten even the slightest bit. Her grip was as a firm as it could be around the imitator’s legs while she carried the girl upon her back.
Admirable, truly admirable.
Yet the girl was slightly taken aback by Fey’s words, something that always seemed to catch her off guard as a light tint of scarlet shaded over ivory tones and her gaze diverted elsewhere. For the moment she was glad that the woman was looking ahead of her so as not to see the embarrassed expression upon the mimic’s face.
❝You do not give yourself enough credit, Fey. The scenery today is rather pleasant, it is not too cold either so that is nice as well despite the season. We really do have a lot to catch up on, though… A shame that so much time has passed.
As for that however… There are none. Nothing regarding that has changed either.❞
Flattery. Way too much flattery — for it’d push the redhead into false realization of having overcome the obstacle pertaining to weak stamina. And eventually, over exertion would trigger severe disappointment. Ah, but whatever outcome arrived from this, be it sore legs or arms, the pain would certainly be well the suffering.
Living in the moment of the present was wonderful. This present — was wonderful.
Lips emitted a light chuckle at such an adorable, expected reaction. Nothing proved to be more entertaining than a little teasing; no harm laced itself into the CEO’s actions. They never had. Quite honestly, had the mimic answered otherwise, maternal instincts would’ve triggered paranoia. Maternal in addition to the genuine concern of a friend, because love was…
Love was a painful thing.
Wonderful, painful, and utterly complicated. Challenging to a degree unknown to even the sharpest of minds, but the power laced within it filled the void of loneliness and despair, enhancing a strength unknown to those who proclaimed to have weak souls.
Yet it could backfire at any moment, and allowing the mimic to suffer through that, just…—it was too much to elaborate on. A curl to painted lips masked any sign of concern.
❝Careful — you’ve got charm in both your appearance and personality. Don’t worry, though; Mama Fey’ll keep them all away. Heh. But life’s about much more than relationships — tell me, you’ve…been taking care of yourself while I was gone right?❞
There were very few things that Rayne regretted in her life, always having made it a point to never make a decision that would come back on her later in that form. Still, there were things she regretted and all of them were based in overflowing emotions. She was going to regret her actions later on, but in that moment it didn’t matter because the decision seemed to be her body’s automatic response, bypassing her though process all together.
Fey was slowly backed into the nearest wall, Rayne’s arm coming up in a single movement to pin the redhead there. The brunette’s forearm pressed against her friend’s throat as eyes narrowed and darkened further to a level of emotion never thought possible for someone usually so collected. Rayne didn’t exist in that moment. Something else had to have taken over in that moment.
This couldn’t be Rayne, right?
"You’re lying. No. You’re lying.” Was she really accusing Fey, or was she just trying to convince herself that Gem would never lie to her? “That’s a lie.”
The lack of actions were concerning. That’d been the initial assumption. The action that followed immediately stole the title. So foreign, to receive a vibe of anger from the woman that’d been one of her heart’s anchors, one that claimed to share that mutual sensation. The slope of a back straightened upon contact with a wall, access to air decreasing significantly when digits seized her neck.
Lips failed to utter words immediately. Not due to the difficulty of inhaling, but due to utter shock at Rayne’s state. Understandable, yes, but still, it’d just been… … Hands encircled her wrists in defensive action, not to inflict harm, but to prevent further violence. The muscles in her jaw tightened.
"R—ayne…! I swear I’m not—” Wheeze. “—I’d never lie to you.” Air. Fey needed air.
"—He was at that…place, too. Rayne, that—place—where I was—please believe me—”
He couldn’t really believe what he was hearing at first. Despite taking in each and everyone of her words, still they would come and go — like a blur, Garry was finding it most difficult to process just what was being told. To come to believe such a story belonged to the woman standing before him seemed impossible. A woman of whom harboured such a smile that would brighten his day no matter what, something that everyone else was incapable of doing, such a life isn’t meant for Fey.. but for May, perhaps. It would take Garry a long time to come to get used to the name change, however slight, a name was important. He’d come to befriend and trust Fey.. someone of whom he thought he knew. To jump to sudden hatred and/or dislike was too brash, and honestly, even after such a story, Garry still found it hard to ever come to seriously dislike her. Even though this sudden truth would dull out everything else, he couldn’t forget the times they had shared, believing that despite the name change, it was still Fey standing right here. It wasn’t exactly Garry’s place to be angry, he has no control over Fey. Changes can be hard, of course.. but Garry would still accept her, no matter what dark truth lay in waiting, he’d be a hypocrite to suddenly cast her aside. He couldn’t afford to lose her.. even if it’s against her wishes, Garry would continue to be at her side, no matter what the cost.
He doesn’t have much to lose anyway.
Death was something that Garry was afraid of, clearly. Though if a time ever came where he’d have to face it in the place of someone else, he would. He’d sometimes wonder if he’d ever have to be in that situation, of course, with the current curse that was looming overhead constantly, by now, Garry has prepared himself for the worst, if it means to keep the ones he cares for most alive. But such news that would pierce him like a gunshot, had Garry at a loss for words, slightly shaking his head as he refused to believe what fate May was going on about.
All this talk of death and having no choice…
perhaps to himself, he deserved it. But not Fey.
He would place a finger upon her lips, as if to hush her at that. Truthfully he couldn’t bare to hear anything more, he refused to believe that Fey would face a worst fate than himself, that she would perish before himself. No matter what murders had been performed, what mistakes Fey has made, he could only blame it on the circumstances, in the end. It’s all so very.. unfortunate. A single tear would appear, pausing before slowly rolling down one single cheek, his hands falling to either side.
"If you ever hurt me, …May… I wouldn’t be angry.” His tone was sincere, absolute. "No matter.. what. You are so brave to tell me this.. honestly, I’m at a loss on how to feel, exactly.." —perhaps this tear was a result on the mixture of both anger and sadness. He hadn’t any ideals when it came to Fey. Garry would always think of her as someone of whom has saved him. He’d always find himself forever in her debt. This truth was no doubt a shock, unsettling too.. but no judgement made would be one hundred percent fair, he was never with her to witness such a life, he couldn’t possibly imagine what it feels like to be standing in her shoes right now. There comes a faint choke in words, he’s trying to hold himself together. "No matter.. what you’ve done. We all make mistakes, however terrible..
..but there is one thing I won’t accept.” At this point he’d firmly pull her into a hug, as if the sudden contact would make anything better in terms of such a fate May had mentioned. “You’re not going to die, Fey.. May, sorry… —-
You aren’t going to. You can’t.”
Inducing emotions that triggered tears in the male’s wonderful optics had only been acceptable to the CEO had it been one of severe laughter, one that indicated happiness. Not…—not this. Pain staining such an endeared visage, further emphasized by the flickering pattern in his baritone’s soundwaves. Palms inherited marks of nails that dug into the skin, the only notion possible as every other muscles remained stiff, still, as if it were unfair to latch out and embrace the male, to utter reassuring words that, in some way, life hadn’t been a pain.
Ironic, really, that thoughts of her own lingered around the same topic as what supposedly anchored the artist’s own — except it’d been quite contrary. For someone as…kind, as generous, as whole-heartedly supportive and talented to have endured such a dark, dark past stood as unfair. The suffering Garry’d busted past hadn’t been easy at all — the thought of having to experience such a horrific stage in life had been one that the redhead could not comprehend nor visualize. Guilt laced itself into the possibility of exposing the purple-haired male to yet another dark phase, one potentially significant when leaving a scar, all thanks to the whirlwind of a fate she harboured. Attachment had been foreign; establishing bonds of a caliber as strong as this were ones she failed to gain experience in.
That’d been the very reason why letting go seemed impossible. The hardest task always remained the most difficult; however, carrying through with severing this tie with such a…a blessing…
…it didn’t seem right at all.
Had it been selfish? This desire to remain close, to refrain from severing this bond and instead strengthen it? Selfish, yes, but — she’d want nothing more than to be selfish just this one.
Lips parted to possibly offer words that toned down the tension, but a gasp seemed to be the substitute when her frame had been pulled to one that emitted a warmth of such comfort. Arms remained at her sides for a prolonged moment — no intention of discouraging this notion lingered in the lack of a response. In fact, it’d been one of those rare instances that rendered speechlessness in a woman who’d been quick to retort to anything, in any situation.
Tough exterior, soft interior. Only a few harboured the power to slap that realization in Fey. Over and over did his words echo internally, second by second enhancing the rate at which this weak heart beat. Almost immediately, arms returned the wonderful notion. Palms grasped at the cloth of his coat, one that still held that familiar smell. Nostalgic and…—
The expanse of her forehead pressed against the area of his chest, lids squeezing shut in an attempt to refrain from bawling like a child, despite the fact that it’d been desirable. This source of support, this sensation of happiness, to receive it from someone that deserved all the happiness in the world, it seemed unfair. So unfair.
"I want to — visit more art galleries with you. Celebrate more birthdays and be there when you have your art showcased. I want to witness all the successes you’ll have, I want to be there when you feel like it’s difficult, I want to be there to remind you that you — are so strong… So capable…” A pause. The lump in her throat restricted proper tone. The grip on his coat tightened.
"I just want to make memories and look back on them and smile because — because…there won’t be another chance. I want to make memories that’ll push your mind away from the bad times you’ve gone through, too, because that way I’ll be able to pass peacefully. So peacefully… Can we — can we live life at our fullest? Can we just — just live life…?”
One single tear stained the dusty pavement.
"I never break my promises, Garry. But this one time, I…—don’t think I can promise you that. But I promise that things’ll be worth every second spent…—will you accept that promise? And promise me that you won’t ever, ever give up?”
"…I’m in love with someone."
"Please forgive me."