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I wrap my arms around Elsa as she cries softly into my chest.
She’s been crying for such a long time. When I think no more tears will come, out a new wave hits her and she succumbs to it all over again.
I knew there would be repercussions when she remembers her past.
That day was the darkest day of her life. She lost both her parents and a large chunk of herself.
Back then, I thought she was gone, too.
I thought it was all over.
The memory of that time when I no longer heard her voice has been a constant part of my nightmares.
It’s even worse than the red woman and her torture.
When you have a light in the middle of the darkness and that light dims to nothing, it fucks you up.
That’s why my world became black after that.
I stroke her shoulder as she weeps quietly. My hand glides over the curve of her throat and stop at her pulse. Her beating, throbbing pulse. It’s a constant reminder that she’s alive, not dead.
Her scar is proof she doesn’t have that gush in her chest. Her bright blond hair isn’t soaked in red like when she lay there lifeless.
That’s why I’m obsessed with those three parts of her.
I gather her close to me and her body trembles.
I’m ready to do anything to stop her from crying and hanging on to pieces from the past. However, having her hold on to me as if I’m her lifeline stirs the beast inside me.
For the rest of our lives, I want to be the only one who witnesses her breaking and support her through the storm. I want to be the one who soothes her ache when she needs soothing. The one who wipes her tears when they need wiping. The one who lifts her up when she needs lifting.
I want to be there for her, full stop.
She’s mine. Fucking mine.
It’s not only her body or her heart that I’m interested in, I want her entire soul so she’ll never be able to leave me.
Some would argue this isn’t the right thing, but fuck the right thing.
&nbs
p; Elsa and I didn’t meet under the right circumstances. We just met, and then we re-met, and then we became inseparable.
Maybe there’ll come a day where I don’t need her as much as I need air. There will come a day when I wake up in the morning and the first thought won’t be about her.
Though, I doubt it. That day will only come with death.
I run the pad of my thumb under her swollen eyes, wiping the moisture away. Elsa leans into my touch, slowly closing her eyes.
Fuck me.
Her small methods of showing affection get me every fucking time. I like it when she stops fighting our connection and snuggles into me like I’m her world.
Like she also can’t live without me.
One day, she’ll be more open about her feelings and how much she wants me. One day, she’ll wake up beside me and see me, not our past.
It’ll take effort and a lot of persuasion, because Elsa’s brain is wired differently from mine. While I don’t give a fuck about what happened and only see our future together, Elsa is plagued by the past and won’t be whole unless she makes peace with it.
