stages of decomposition and disintegration
stages of decomposition and disintegration
susan/rosalie. pg. 235.
She doesn't recognize herself anymore, but it doesn't matter -- there are no mirrors in the blonde's face, only empty eyes that might as well be.
this is a narnia/twilight crossover. written for my flist, because they're amazing. :)
Her eyes are closed, hidden behind veils of thin skin, rain falling on a hope-starved face.
She doesn't say anything for a while.
Pale footsteps silently carry her to the side of this girl, dark hair sodden, twisting in tendrils down her back.
She wants to ask for a name, but she thinks she already knows: it's Grief.
---
What happened to your family?
They all left me. I know exactly where they are.
---
Another city, another home, skipping across the map like a lake, landing (sinking) wherever is convenient.
They are both trying to escape: the vampire from the truth, and the queen from ghosts.
It isn't working well.
---
I almost died.
I almost lived.
---
Memories, for both of them, are found in every human face; desperately they try to win this race against the gulf of sadness that threatens their extinction, against the time that's ticking against them, conspiring.
White hands gripped tight are the only lifeline.
---
Heaven is off-limits for me.
How do you know?
I've been there.
---
They roam the streets like cigarette smoke, eyes deeply shadowed in the early hours of the morning.
She doesn't recognize herself anymore, but it doesn't matter -- there are no mirrors in the blonde's face, only empty eyes that might as well be.
---
I'll never die.
She barks a laugh. That's almost worse.
*
susan/rosalie. pg. 235.
She doesn't recognize herself anymore, but it doesn't matter -- there are no mirrors in the blonde's face, only empty eyes that might as well be.
this is a narnia/twilight crossover. written for my flist, because they're amazing. :)
Her eyes are closed, hidden behind veils of thin skin, rain falling on a hope-starved face.
She doesn't say anything for a while.
Pale footsteps silently carry her to the side of this girl, dark hair sodden, twisting in tendrils down her back.
She wants to ask for a name, but she thinks she already knows: it's Grief.
---
What happened to your family?
They all left me. I know exactly where they are.
---
Another city, another home, skipping across the map like a lake, landing (sinking) wherever is convenient.
They are both trying to escape: the vampire from the truth, and the queen from ghosts.
It isn't working well.
---
I almost died.
I almost lived.
---
Memories, for both of them, are found in every human face; desperately they try to win this race against the gulf of sadness that threatens their extinction, against the time that's ticking against them, conspiring.
White hands gripped tight are the only lifeline.
---
Heaven is off-limits for me.
How do you know?
I've been there.
---
They roam the streets like cigarette smoke, eyes deeply shadowed in the early hours of the morning.
She doesn't recognize herself anymore, but it doesn't matter -- there are no mirrors in the blonde's face, only empty eyes that might as well be.
---
I'll never die.
She barks a laugh. That's almost worse.
*