#mira’s 2k special ♡

[lovlidollie]

⭑ 3. HONEY AND MILK ; barry

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━━ CW ; kidnapping , threats of getting pimped out .

cigarette burns on my collar, i don’t think i like this life that we’re living / surviving on honey and milk, you don’t give me much more to make sure that i’m breathing ━━ honey and milk , flower face

the little basement was dark, save for the spluttering glow of the lone lightbulb having above you. you sit curled up on the tattered mattress, knees drawn up to your chest and thin blanket wrapped tightly around your frail shoulders, aimlessly fiddling with the loose threads. the silence was heavy — oppressive — broken only by the distant hum of the fridge upstairs and the faint drip of a leaky pipe.

you hear his boots first, the harsh thud-thud-thud down the rickety stairs instantly drawing your attention. when the door creaks open, your head snaps up instantly, eyes squinting in the sudden light spilling into the cramped space.

“still kickin’, bunny?” barry’s voice drawls, lazy and low as he reaches the bottom, cigarette perched between his lips.

you nod quickly, clutching the blanket like a lifeline. “‘m okay,” you whisper uncertainly, like you’re afraid of saying something wrong. “yeah?” he takes a long drag, the ember flaring as his dark eyes scan the room. “been eatin’? drinkin’? don’t need y’droppin’ dead on me.”

you hesitate before nodding slowly, voice softer this time. “um, had some of the crackers.. and a bit of water.” barry exhales a puff of smoke right into your face, smirking when you start to cough. “good, good. don’t wan’ y’wastin’ away, what kind of man’d i be then, huh?” you don’t answer, heart thumping painfully in your chest at his proximity.

“y’lookin’ after my place, right? he asks lightly, but you hear the underlying warning. “yes,” you blurt out immediately, “cleaned up — jus’ like you said. didn’t touch anything i wasn’t supposed to, i promise.”

barry crouches down in front of you, stained hand coming up to caress your soft cheek. his touch is rough and unwelcome and the stench of him invades all your senses — sweat and motor oil and cheap beer. it makes your stomach clench and turn on itself, makes your nose twitch and eyes water. “y’know bunny, you really oughta be grateful. not everyone’d take such good care of you. world’s a mean place for such a lil’ thing like you, it’d eat ya alive don’t y’think?”

you press your wobbly lips together, blinking away salty tears. his grip on your face tightens painfully, dirty fingernails digging into your skin. “answer me,” he says sharply, cigarette dangling dangerously close to your face. “ain’t i done right by you?”

“y-yeah,” you tremble like a leaf as you force out the words, trying not to gag at his breath. barry nods slowly, smirk curling into something darker. “you’d be a real hit with the sorta folks i deal with. but no—” he lets out a humourless laugh, shaking his head and standing up. “gotta keep y’all to m’self.”

“could be sharin’ you around, makin’ somethin’ real sweet outta all that innocence y’got.” his words send cold terror through your body, a reaction so visceral you feel bile rising up your scratchy throat and goosebumps flooding your skin. you hear the threat loud and clear. “nah,” barry continues, carelessly flicking ash over your head. “too fuckin’ pretty f’that. too soft. wouldn’t last a minute out there without me, ‘n i guess i like havin’ somethin’ pretty t’come home to.”

the tears finally slip down your face, the warmth a stark contrast to the frigid air. you shove a hand over your mouth, trying to stop the sobs from escaping; you knew better than to be a nuisance. barry laughs bitterly as he turns around, shuffling over the steps once again. “listen, uhh. you keep y’mouth shut, yeah? gonna get us in trouble if you keep up all that cryin’ shit. don’t wan’ anyone sniffin’ around here. ‘n don’t you give me a reason to come back down here tonight. won’t end well, bun. won’t end well at all.”

[lovlidollie]

⭑ 2. PUSHING DAISIES ; rafe cameron

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━━ CW ; drug consumption , barry enabling , angst .

there’s some things you just can’t medicate / it’s never enough / i don’t think you understand / all the things that you could have had ━━ pushing daises , flower face

the first time you found him at barry’s, you thought it was just a fluke. a choice born from an amalgamation of ward’s disapproval and constant dismissal of rafe, and the sheer stress of dealing with whatever the hell his sister was getting up to. you hadn’t seen that part of him before, the hungry, ravenous creature lurking beneath his skin. he was good at hiding his problems when it came to you. you’d dragged him out, hands trembling against his blank face as you’d told him that he was okay, that you’d help. you’d begged, made him promise that he wouldn’t do it again.

as you find yourself outside that godforsaken trailer weeks later, bitter december air biting at your cheeks, you’re reminded of the fact that rafe cameron is a liar and that you should have known better. the silhouette behind the fogged up window shows a body bent over lines that are more familiar to him than your face has been in days.

you hated being in there. hated the stench of the trailer, the humid warmth that never went away, and you hated the way barry’s lecherous gaze clung to you like smoke. he never bothered to hide it either, lazily manspreading into his rickety chair with a smug smirk. “rafe.” your voice cuts through the muffled bass of whatever trash is playing through barry’s ancient speakers. it’s sharp, shaking with anger and fear.

he’s on the couch, black shirt half unbuttoned with a sheen of sweat over his skin, rolled up bill pinched between his fingers. he doesn’t even react to your presence. rafe’s hands tremble as he goes to wipe his nose, trying to compose himself as if you hadn’t seen it all before. as if the white dust smudged across the coffee table wasn’t proof enough.

you don’t even wait for him to speak, to garble out half-assed excuses. “i can’t do this anymore,” your voice cracks on the last word, tears threatening to spill from your waterline.

“do what?” his words are slurred, but the confusion in his eyes is real. rafe tilts his head, greasy bangs falling across his face, like a child hearing something they can’t quite comprehend. “this. us,” you press your lips together, fists shaking at your sides. “you could have so much more than this. so much more. you’re throwing away everything, your friends, your family — me. you don’t belong here, ray.”

your gaze flickers to barry, who chuckles low in his throat. “wastin’ y’breath, sweetheart,” he drawls, tone full of condescension. “y’boy’s right where he wants t’be.”

“shut the fuck up, barry!” you snap harshly, unable to stop the venomous outburst. rafe’s head lolls back against the couch, eyes fluttering and eyebrows furrowing. “rafe, please. just — jus’ come back. we can get you help, proper help, ‘n it can all go back to normal,” you plead with him, taking another step towards him. you try not to think about how many chances you’ve already given him, how you’ve forgiven him over and over again.

his lids peel open, and for a moment he just stares at you, once bright blue eyes now dim and glassy and dead. you start to wonder if he even heard you, but then he shifts. his hand twitches on his lap, as if he wants to reach for you but just doesn’t have the strength. your heart flutters with hope, but rafe shakes his head, a bitter smile twisting at his lips.

“go home, baby,” he whispers with finality. “y’can’t save me.”

just like that, the fight drains out of you and the hope drips from the cavity in your chest. a tear falls down the slope of your cheek when you realise that this was the fate rafe was enslaving himself to. you turn on your heel and walk out, vision blurry and a buzz in your ears. the door slams shut behind you as barry’s terrible laugh echoes and haunts you into the night.

[lovlidollie]

⭑ 1. OCTOBER BIRDS ; rafe cameron

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━━ CW ; toxic relationship , allusions to abuse , angst .

over and over, i take what you give me / no man is an island, i’m the girl on your shoreline / washed up and heaving, pathetically breathing / i cling to your sleeves and i stop you from leaving ━━ october birds , flower face

you knew better than to hold onto things that broke you. yet here you were, anchored to him as if he was the only thing keeping you afloat. there was something magnetic about rafe cameron, something ruinous and inevitable, a force that defied any and all reason. impossible to hold onto and even harder to let go. he didn’t need to break you; you offered yourself willingly like a sacrificial lamb, splintering and cracking under the weight of your own devotion. you did so knowing the devastation he would leave in his wake, because loving him had ceased to be a choice; it was a compulsion, a sickness, an ache you could neither escape nor satisfy.

you’d told yourself you would leave the next time (a promise so familiar, so repetitively comforting), but when the next time came — when his voice rose and his hand followed — you didn’t. the sting lingered, not just on the surface of your bruised skin, but somewhere deeper, down to the marrow of your cold bones. still, you reached for him. always, always, reaching for him. you told yourself it was proof that he felt something, that the fire that burned through him burned for you.

there was never any pride in the way your trembling hands clutched at his sleeve, like a sinner begging for salvation, no dignity in the whispered pleas that spilled from your weathered lips. he never gave you enough to hold onto, only fragments of something more — an almost-smile, a fleeting kiss to marred skin after the violence of his love, the rare softness in his voice when he let your name linger on his tongue.

was it truly love, you wondered, this desperate, torturous grasping at something that constantly managed to slip through your fingers like sand? rafe, in all his cruelty, didn’t care regardless. he never apologised, never whispered those apocalyptic words, never risked contrition; apologies would have required an acknowledgment — an admission — of guilt, a burden he was neither willing nor capable of bearing.

“why do you do this to yourself?” he asked once, foot half way out the door, his voice low, almost tender as he tilted your chin to meet his gaze. there was no malice in his expression (not this time) only detachment and a morbid, terrible sense of curiosity, as though he couldn’t quite believe how he’d gotten away with doing this to you. he didn’t see the full extent of your surrender, how you’d hollow yourself out for him completely — not when he was the reason blood still flowed through your battered body.

the cycle continues until once again, you plead with him. “please,” whispered through cottony mouth and snotty nose. “don’t leave.” he stood above you, unyielding, a statue carved from stone and held together with mortar. there was no gentleness this time, no mercy in his cold gaze or cruel lips. when he turns his back on you, door slamming with a thunderous bang, rattling the very foundations of your soul, you feel yourself splinter again and again and again and over again.

you would wait for him of course, as you always did. hands pressed to your knees despite the sharp aches shooting through your muscles, head dutifully downcast in misguided submission. you would wait, knowing with bitter certainty that when he returned, you would gather the broken pieces of yourself and offer them all over again. because love like this was not measured in reason or affection — it was measured in sacrifice, in the silent obliteration of oneself. it was a relentless ritual of surrender — giving up your essence at his altar, choking down the sobs of his abandonment — and consigning yourself to your very own damnation.

[lovlidollie]

⋆˚࿔ mira’s 2k celebration …

a series of drabbles influenced by songs from flower face . featuring rafe cameron and barry .

━━ thank u all my lovelies who have been supporting and loving my writing since the very start . forever grateful and so very appreciative of you all . please enjoy this little gift, from me to you . hopefully, there will be one release every day until it is complete <3

━━ fyi, these blurbs are not interconnected .

﹒⌗﹒ OCTOBER BIRDS

﹒⌗﹒ PUSHING DAISIES

﹒⌗﹒ HONEY AND MILK

﹒⌗﹒ bad astrology

﹒⌗﹒ back to you

﹒⌗﹒ interlude

﹒⌗﹒ tell me when it hurts

﹒⌗﹒ spiracle