She watched the other woman with CONFUSION as she slipped out of her comforting embrace. Columbia was QUICK TO UNDERSTAND that Liz had done so to collect herself. At this realization the former groupie took a deep breathand wiped away at the tears which had been pouring down made up cheeks. Porcelain ivories bit down upon GLOSSED, QUIVERING LIPS in afailed attempt to calm herself for the other’s sake. TEAR FLOODED optics grew wide at Liz’s response. As someone who KNEW LIZ it was apparent to her the gravity which weighed down that sentence. Pride SWELLED in her chest at the other’s capability of detaching from the one who had done her wrongso quickly ( not EVERYONEwas capable of refusing forgiveness to those people ). ❝ No, she DOESN’T, ❞ she replied coldly, fists clenching at her side. Was that an agreement to stay away as Liz asked her to ??? Columbia WASN’T SURE quite yet. Though, the thought of further upsetting such a dear friend was likely more than enough to keep her away. ❝ She ain’t worth an OUNCE of your energy or time, ❞ the bitternessoozed from EACH SYLLABLE which escaped her.
LACKING GRACE are the shuffling steps taken to the edge of columbia’s bed. the need to sit is ever present ; the weight of loss ‘pon her shoulders is nearly too much to bearstanding. cautiously, she perches on the worn mattress, dosing relief to aching limbs. even so, the younger girl’s gaze is eluded ––– in favor of the carpet ; her own still baring her lover’s corpse, & the sunken stain of a sanguine pool beneath him.
that thought alone is enough to trigger another bout of tears, quiet sobbing once again racking her chest. palms, their tremor poorly concealed, come up to cover her face, elbows resting upon pantyhose - donned knees. she’s crying into her hands, unable to become the embodiment of strength she’s expected to be. ❛ oh god –––– ❜ roughly exhaled, palms shifting to allow her voice to carry. words, however, remain muffled& faint, nearly indistinct –– had the room not been so quiet. ❛ this is –– it’s my fault. ❜
tongue runs cautiously against the ends of front teeth, clearly displaying his caution. sure, he had hung around many female models in his time – but things like these were mostly taken care of by the artists. ❛ you realize this is already shitty, right? ❜ uncomfortably, fingers dip the brush back into the nail polish to ready another coat.
a grin, feather light, stretches pink lips, her free hand coming up to hide the incoming bout of laughter ( laughing with him, not at him ). the whole ordeal is absolutely endearing : the way his tongue peeks from between lips in concentration, & his fingers delicately painting small strokes onto her nails. he’s not doing half - bad. ❛ no, no! ❜ & in her quick response, that restrained giggle escapes, smile growing. ❛ you’re doing fine, baby. ❜
Tear brimmed eyes SQUEEZED SHUT, a few salt filled drops ran down the FAIR texture of her cheekas she clung to the taller woman’s shaking frame.With the WORST CASE scenario come to fruition this was ALL she could think to do and she wasabashedby the lack of placating things to say to the woman who had become a FOUNTAIN OF WISDOM to herself. At the sound of Liz’s voice, the former groupie pulled away just enough so that her TEAR FILLED gaze met the other’s.
❝ Why not ??? ❞ she just barely managed to croak. ❝ S-someone OUGHT TO, ❞ her head rested against Liz’s chest once more unable to BEAR seeing such a pillar of strength crumble before her eyes. It was just SO UNFAIR. Columbia could scream about how UNJUST it all was until her voice gave out (was that even POSSIBLE anymore ??? ).Despite the FURY which stirred within her and was beginning tocloud her better judgement, Columbia was ABLE to deduce why so muchdesperationwas present Liz’s voice because she was AFRAID to lose another. ❝ What do I got to LOSE ??? She can’t do nothin’ to me, ❞ At least she thought so. She wasn’t very FAMILIAR with her new situationor what COULD or COULDN’T hurt her.
a TREMENDOUS amount of effort is
required to come down from the intense high of adrenaline & grief racking her quivering frame, to quell her sobs into silent tears. she has to pull away from columbia’s tight, warm embrace, for fear of breaking down all over again. digits soaked in ichor come to try and wipe away the running makeup, the crying that’d stained her face, only to unknowingly further smear the splatters of sanguine already there. she’s a shaking mess of blood, sweat, & tears, with stains on her dress & a hole in her heart. hands wring themselves together, tired gaze locked to their continuous motion, in an effort to avoid columbia’s crying eyes. ‘ because, ‘ she takes a deep inhale, as if she’s forgotten to breathe, ‘ she – she doesn’t m - matter anymore. ‘ words are hard; she’s choking them out at a volume barely above a whisper. & thoughts of the countess are even harder, when tristan’s death is a broken record in her mind, the gruesome picture playing over & over again, only to remind her of the blood on her hands ( her fault – all her fault ).
with glass bits brushed away & the wooden bat tucked back in its proper place, atop stilettos does she make her way back down to the lobby :carefree, heart light ( love blooming within her chest ). grace bounds her every step to the elevator, & it’s only once she’s entered its metal cage that she lets that beam upturn a rosy mouth.
& even though tristan’s presence in her thoughts is as prominent as ever, to exit the lift & see him sitting in the lobby, lounging upon a red - cushioned sofa with that particular blithe curve to his spine, is a ( welcome )surprise. irises of hazel widen as she grows closer, pace gaining as she notes the obviousturmoil expressed in his body language. ❛ –––– tristan ? ❜ she inquires softly, brow delicately furrowed. ❛ what’s wrong? ❜
