Little Writing Prompt: Elm edition!

Posts : 77 Join date : 2023-08-21

[[Au where injuries on one soulmate appear on the other, TW: suicidal ideation, abuse]]

The first time really I fell, I was three.

I looked at my shin and wondered at the lack of any sort of wound there. Nothing to show for the brief flare of pain. My father impatiently explained that there were some people like me people who had soulmates who bore their wounds for them. I didn’t know what the word meant, but it sounded ugly in his mouth, and I wondered why I was different.

The first time he hit me, I was five.

I don’t remember why, but I remember the sting of the cut on my lip - the one that wasn’t there and his venomous-sounding words of loathing. I remember crying, not for the pain but for the thought of you. The thought that you were hurting somewhere not knowing why.

The first time I saw the mark that bound us, I was eight.

I know it was there before that, but I never really noticed it until then. I stared at it as I dreamt of a far-off place where I could meet you. A distant world where we were already together. I could hold your hand and explain. I never wanted to hurt you. That all the scars that must touch your body are because of someone else.

The first time I ran away, I was thirteen.

I ran away for you. I was almost certain that you must be dead, but the mark on my arm told me you were still alive. That you were holding on. I wondered if you were holding on for me; like I’d been holding on for you. Until the moment that I could run. Because I couldn’t bear to have you hurt on my behalf any longer. Not knowing that you’d love me. I prayed that you wouldn’t hate me too.

The first time I realized he was worse, I was still thirteen.

I was laying about with my broken bones, my shattered pride. He took me in and the world turned to gray. Life was a nightmare not worth living. I would have left this world but I couldn’t bear the thought that I might take you with me. Or worse, that I would only succeed in leaving myself utterly alone. There was no more room left for prayers. Gods didn’t listen to fools like me. All I could manage was surviving.

The first time I was saved, I was sixteen.

I was sleeping when he came in through the door like a guardian angel. Sent by your tears, by your pain. He came for me and even though he was surrounded by blood he smiled gently at me and told me that everything was going to finally - at last - going to be okay. I don’t know why I believed him, maybe I believed because there was nothing else left in me. Just the small flame in my heart for you.

The first time I met you, I was still sixteen.

I saw you and knew that for the rest of my life I would love you. It wasn’t that you’d sent someone to save me. It wasn’t how lovely you looked standing in the doorway. Surprised. Disheveled by sleep. It was the smile you wore. The smile that forgave me every wound. Every hardship. The smile that saved me a second time.

Every time we kiss, you save me again.

I fall for you, again.

Posts : 16 Join date : 2023-09-01

[[TW: Murder]]

I remember a world away from here. A place that is like a dream to me.

I remember dinner. A pot roast and macaroni. I don’t remember what it tasted like. That memory is gone. I remember smiling as I came home to find it ready and on the table. The memory of your embrace is something that I can not forget. How warm, small, and perfect your form was in my arms. How you made me feel safe and wanted.

I remember being interrupted, by the joy of a smaller form joining us. Sweeping him up with my hands and laughing to see him so happy. The pepper of kisses like soft butterflies alighting upon my cheeks, and how happy you were to see us laughing. All of us together in that moment.

I remember the door. The way it burst open and revealed death on the other side. The way I leapt to my feet to defend our house, our family. Too little. Too late.

I remember that feeling of weakness most of all. Knowing that I had failed you. It’s a feeling that hasn’t left me since that day.

I remember watching. Helpless, hopeless. My world vanishing in noise and blood and screaming.

I remember pain.

I remember light.

I remember darkness.

I remember a world that is here and the confusion of knowing that I would never see you again. Holding you in my heart like a bitter secret that I can not let free lest I lose you forever. I hold you so tightly, my treasured memories, knowing every day you slip a little further away from me.

I remember.

Tomorrow I forget.

Subject: Re: Little Writing Prompt: Elm edition! Fri Sep 29, 2023 12:05 pm

As the man left the small escort’s cafe, Samael let his usual smile fade for just a moment. Just one second.

Then, the smile returned as another guest entered the shop and he realized that there was no one at the guest counter to aid them. It wasn’t really his job to greet customers as they came in, but it was his occupation to be welcoming. So he turned to the woman as she entered and offered her a small bow that put a smile on her features and greeted her.

“How may I be of service today?” There was a gentle innuendo in that statement, one that made her titter in response, and after a moment or two of casual flirting she allowed him to lead her to a table.

Of course she requested that he stay with her and be her companion for her meal.

As the woman left the small escort’s cafe, Samael let his usual smile fade for just a moment. Just one second.

He was so tired.

There were no more guests for today on his schedule, no more coming in this late, so he knew it was time to leave and return to his reality.

He was so tired.

The suit came off easily, and was tucked away into its special box as he took a shower, brushed his hair, and got ready for tonights entertainment. He pulled the schedule mentally up in his mind and all it did was fill him with a weariness that he could not shake. He wanted sleep. Needed rest.

All he needed to do was remind himself of the pungent spice aroma of the smoke that would chase his weariness away however to know what would happen if he said anything about the fact that he was so very, very tired.

He put on his smile to hide the feeling that he would do anything if only the world would slow down for just one day. He said his greeting to his first guest for the evening and then the next. And the next. And then the three that came in together.

He took his shower. He put on his makeup. He put on his smile.

As they left, one after the other from his bedroom, Samael let his usual smile fade for just a moment. Just one second.

Then he put on a spectacular show, became the star of the moment.

He took his shower. He put on his makeup. He put on his smile.

At five in the morning he finally let the last of his smiles fade, laid down in his bed - alone - and stared at the ceiling unable to sleep. There was a word somewhere, for how he felt. Tired simply didn’t do it justice. He was weary in the depths of his soul. He didn’t want to smile anymore. Didn’t want to pretend to be someone else until he forgot who he was.

Who was Samael?

There was a soft knock at the door.

So he put on his smile.

There was a word for what he was, but he didn’t know what it was. It was lost somewhere in the aching depths of his mind. Lost behind a careful smile and the mask of who he pretended to be with each and every waking moment.

“Time to get ready.”

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