"sleep paralysis, sworn i could've felt you there and i almost could've kissed your hair but the emptiness withdrew me from any kind of wishful prayer"

zombie girl, adrianne lenker

sleep doesn’t give him peace anymore.

every night feels the same: restless, heavy, empty. in the gray before dawn he swears he feels you, your breath at his neck, your hair brushing against him. once, he even leaned in, lips almost touching the ghost of your forehead, until the emptiness pulled him back. he was alone.

the dreams don’t stop. some nights he sees you clearly: your hands, your laugh, your warmth pressed against him. but the vision always slips away, leaving him cold, awake, and aching.

he thought mary was the right choice once. proper, polished, untouched by blood. maybe she could’ve saved him from the life he carried. but her father’s words cut deeper than her promises, and when it all fell apart, he realized the truth. when she was gone, it wasn’t mary he longed for. it was you.

you, who once steadied him. you, who knew the rhythm of his breath. you, whom he longed for on most nights. he had you once, but still let you go, chasing a past he couldn’t get back. and now he’s lost you for good.

you stand across camp, saddling your horse. focused, untouchable. you don’t look his way anymore.

still, he goes to you.

arthur walks over slow, hat in his hands, the heat pressing down heavy on his back. he feels like he’s crossing a line just standing there. he clears his throat.

“…need a hand with that?” he asks, voice rough, trying to sound casual.

but what he really means is: i just want you to look my way once, even if its with hatred or some cold glare. i just need to know i still exist to you, even if my memory is one you hate.