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[unholyrite]

unpossession​:

Willow  is  about  to  frown,    ask him to please continue playing, if only for her benefit, before the simple and tender act of his fingertips brushing her forehead draws silence out of her. She feels dumbstruck; foolish, suddenly; lost the ability to tease him about his gameplay or the stories behind it all. Where she had been about to joke about Crash Bandicoot being forced to relive the same experience over and over due to Arlo’s inability to pass a certain point, she instead only watches him, her eyes soft.

               “Hey…”           She whispers. There’s a long break in her words, trying to sift through all the things she wants to say to find just the right words. Willow catches his hand in her own.          “I’m sorry. For the way I ended things the last time…  I wasn’t well. I didn’t want to drag you down with me. I hope you can forgive me.” 

He certainly hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation with her right now,      but it was always there. Looming. Whispering to be noticed from the shadows. If she wasn’t looking at him with such vulnerability in those doe eyes of her it might have been easy to forget the hurt that comes along with the memories. How things ended between them... Arlo pulls his lower lip between his teeth to try and hide the frown coming on.                     “I know things haven’t been --- easy for you. For us...”      He doesn’t know what exactly he wants to say. Everything to do with that part of his life is darker than he wants it to be. Unlike her, he can’t edit his own memories. He has a lot of questions that need answering, things in the future that seems unclear, but for now he decides to focus on making her feel better.      “I don’t like to dwell on things that can’t be changed, but --- I’m sure everything will work itself out.” 

[unholyrite]

unpossession​:

Of course, most of what she does is to get a rise out of him. He winds her up so unintentionally it’s only fair that she does it back! With intention! Willow only smiles an evil little smile up at him as he points it out, confirming his worst suspicions that she is, in fact, always plotting against him in some capacity, and turns her attention back to the screen once it’s clear he’s putting his concentration into the game and not giving her a full history of the game’s lore.

            “So there’s no chance Dr Cortex is just trying to get him safely back in the lab so he can be cared for and loved by his lab-family?” 

“No, because he’s got a real family outside of the lab.”        For a silly little game that was ultimately made for children to play, there is an awful lot of lessons to be learned. As the character on the screen dies and it brings him back to the checkpoint, he gives a little sigh. His motor skills are not what they used to be, and he tries his best not to let it get him down. It’s hard... He places the controller down beside him and looks down at her.                    “Maybe I’ll try playing again later, when you’re actually asleep and you can’t bug me with all these questions trying to rile me up,”    he’s grinning, and he reaches down to gently brush hair away from her forehead. A much too familiar touch, perhaps. 

[unholyrite]

unpossession​:

               “I  know,”          Willow says. It’s not about that, though, and she doesn’t know how to describe it without saying some things she doesn’t want to say yet. So she keeps herself where she is, holding on to Taylor like a life raft until she feels steady enough to continue on.        

                         “I’m just angry with myself. I always am. And especially lately…   My dad used to –”     No, no. She can’t go there. No. Willow finds a different way to say it:         “I feel like it would be easier if you punched me. I’m not saying I want you to do that. Or that you should want to. I’m just saying. There is this voice in my head that tells me that because I did something wrong you should hit me and that it will fix everything. But I know that’s wrong. Unless you want to. I’d let you, like, punch me in the boob or something. If you thought it would make you feel better…” 

She’s veered off topic again.

Normally Taylor would have been disgruntled with such an act of emotion.     Felt uncomfortable about someone touching her with such a clinging need. Yet as Willow continues to grasp onto her she finds herself stomaching it. Not for herself, but for her friend. Sometimes things simply are needed for other people, even when she doesn’t want them for herself. Taylor continues to stroke at her hair gently, trying to comfort her as best she can.                    “I don’t want to hurt you, Willow.”      She bites back comments about how stupid this train of thought is. Taylor being upset with Willow for willingly allowing herself to be hurt, used, and Willow wanting to fix it with more violence. She doesn’t say any of this, only stews over it in her mind.     “It’s not going to fix anything, anyways. The only thing that’s gonna fix this is time --- and you. Give me a reason to believe you, to believe you wanna get better. With actions, not just words.” 

[unholyrite]

unpossession​:

Willow  nods  slowly.    It’s something, at least. It isn’t the warm embrace she wanted, the cuddle, the comfort she might once have received from Taylor, trying to convince her that everything will be alright, but it’s something. Willow bows her head and begins to cry again. It’s all she knows how to do, even if she is grateful to be accepted back at all. 

She’s usually so hesitant about touching people, not wanting to show her desperation, but right now she isn’t. She wants Taylor back. She wants the Taylor that thought the best in her, not the worst, she wants to un-break the heart that she broke, she wants to scrap the draft and rewrite the narrative and tweak out the parts where she became a huge disappointment to Taylor! But she can’t. She can’t do that.

So instead she stands up out of her seat and walks over to Taylor’s side of the table, falling to her knees at her chair and wrapping her arms tightly around her midsection. Willow rests her head in Taylor’s lap, the way she used to do with her mother as a child, she hides her face in Taylor’s stomach and she manages to stop the shuddering of her shoulders enough so that it looks almost peaceful. 

             “I’m never gonna be able to make it up to you, am I?” 

That is the thing about life.    Unfortunately you can never decide how someone else defines you in their head. Where Willow wants to Taylor to frame her with the innocence she once saw in her, it is now marred. Discoloured. There is no way that Willow can edit things the way she does in her own head. It is forgiveness that can only be birthed within Taylor’s own heart that she seeks, and it is a heart that has already forgiven so much in its lifetime that it has become thorny and guarded.  Willow drops to her knees in front of her and Taylor frowns. She doesn’t want her to beg... a thought that is quickly retracted when she finds arms around her waist. Willow comes to her now with such uninhibited intentions that it awakens the caregiver within her. With a gentle hand stroking against dark locks, tenderly comforting her, she lets out a soft sigh.                “You don’t have to prove yourself to me. My love is always going to be unconditional... Just because I’m upset doesn’t change that.” 

[unholyrite]

Isn’t she gorgeous

[unholyrite]

unpossession​:

               “I don’t know what a  ‘bandicoot’  is, so—”       Oh, oh no. He’s still talking. Willow rolls her eyes, laughing to herself about how much of a nerd he is. And he calls her a dork! Can he hear himself? She hates to admit this, but she half-glazes over until he looks to her for some kind of response.          “So he’s a furry you?” 

Willow pokes at his nose, giggling up at him, then turns her attention to the screen again, watching him play with a sleepy interest, eyes half-closed but curious enough to stay awake and observe.

               “So what’s his story? Why is Matrix-Doctor-Guy the antagonist? What’s he got against his lab-baby?”      She’s being intentionally obtuse and stupid, trying to wind him up.

Arlo’s nose wrinkles instinctively as she presses into it,   but all the while he keeps a smile on his face. While his fingers tap against the controller, his focus now entirely on the screen opposite him as opposed staring fondly down at her, he gives a little sigh.        “I swear you never actually listen to me. Or you’re playing dumb on purpose...”     He knows the games she plays. It doesn’t mean that he likes to participate any less. They’ve always been like this -- well... not always. Arlo swallows back the lump that threatens to form when his mind wanders.     “Dr Cortex doesn’t like to lose, basically. When Crash escaped, it pissed him off. Like a kid who breaks his own toys …” 

[unholyrite]

unpossession​:

It’s  fair  that  Taylor  should  say   all  of  this,    but it doesn’t make Willow feel any less frustrated for hearing it. It’s what she’s been trying to say with all of this; she needs help. She’s asking for it. It starts with the apology, acknowledging she isn’t right, the help leads into that – the way Taylor is talking to her now makes her think that she isn’t being understood at all. 

Her nostrils flare, Willow looks down at her hands with glassy eyes and tries not to get angry about it. She reminds her that Taylor has no reason to believe she wants to change, that she’s asking for help, because she hasn’t explicitly said it. She can’t go skipping steps. She has to suffer through the suspicion and the judgement, she’s earned it all. 

So, she takes it with grace. As much grace as she has, at least. There’s none of the frustration in her voice when she speaks, only a gentle plea.

                  “That’s why I’m telling you this;  I need you to know that I know where I was– where I was going wrong. I’m not…”          Willow takes a deep breath, exhales hard through her trembling lips.          “While he was in the hospital I – I made a promise to the universe. On the things that mattered to him. To the things that mattered to him, because I… I didn’t know if I had anything that mattered to me anymore… I promised that I would live if he did. As long as he did. I – I didn’t make it lightly, you know? I’m not saying I’m– I’m fixed, but I’m saying– I plan on keeping that promise. I want help. I’m trying to ask for it. I’m trying to ask my best friend to forgive me, and for her help.” 

It isn’t something she wants to say.     Even as she says it she feels uncomfortable in the role of protector against someone she usually plays it for. There has been a fracture in their relationship, and even though Arlo’s accident acted as a cast, Taylor is still unsure if it will ever set right. Hesitant. For someone can only go through so much loss before they shut themselves off to the world forever. Despite all her reservations, she listens to Willow. She listens to her asking for help and she knows it would be cruel to deny it to her. Her eyes divert to the ground, lips pursed into a hard line as she filters through all of her own thoughts.  “I don’t think that you’re broken. People are not objects that can be easily fragmented... I think it will help you the most to stop thinking of yourself as something -- someone -- that needs to be fixed.”  Taylor brings Willow back into her line of vision. A soft, yet saddened, smile on her face. She gathers up all of the uncertainty in her heart and does her best to let it fade away. “You’ll always be my best friend. No matter what. I meant what I said -- I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend like you before. It’s special. If you want my help, you’ve always got it. But I have to warn you that I’m not going to treat you with kiddie gloves. If you want my help, it’s going to be tough love.” 

[unholyrite]

unpossession​:

            “Mhm, I was planning on it,”          She smiles at him, sleepy, and places the pillow on his lap, wriggling under her blankets to get comfortable with her head in his lap. Willow has talked to the frogs about his hesitation; lamenting the sudden barriers that never once plagued her with him. She understands it. She doesn’t begrudge it. They haven’t had the chance to talk; Willow has been to occupied with his recovery to begin to think of her own. There is still much wrong with her. Willow lets her eyes drift closed, only opening to watch him as the sounds from the television begin to get interesting.  

                                “Such a weird lookin’ fox. Dog? Fox. What is he?”        Willow gestures to the TV.       “Why does he need converse? Or jeans, for that matter? You know, this is why there are so many furries running around…” 

There is comfort in having her close now.     As though all of his hesitations have been for nothing; but everything is safer in the light of day. When the sun breaks through and kisses everything to make it seem brighter, more alive. It makes them seem more alive. They’ll have to talk about everything one day. Soon, or Arlo will simply go mad living inside his own head. He isn’t like her. Being alone with his own thoughts for too long doesn’t work for him the way it works for her. It begins to grow and mutate until it is bigger than it ever should be.            “That’s not --- he’s not a furry. The game is called Crash Bandicoot, what do you think he is, dork?”     He teases, one hand leaving the controller to poke his finger into her cheek.     “He’s a genetically engineered eastern barred bandicoot, who was created by the game’s antagonist, Dr Neo Cortex. He’s actually quite sweet, you know. Actually, he’s a very emotional character. Quick to cry -- oh, and he’s Australian, so you know he’s cool.” 

[unholyrite]

unpossession​:

It  is  a  comfy  sofa   -  the problem is the distractions. Willow is kept awake by the frogs – or does she spend most of her time keeping herself awake with them? Mindlessly chattering to them about whatever silly little thoughts come her way. She would never talk to Spook like that, he’s too judgmental and she’s pretty sure he would spill all her secrets to whoever asked him. The frogs don’t give her the same anxiety. By the time she’s done with that, the light filtering through the blinds is what keeps her awake, the little sleep she does have are plagued with nightmares or too-vivid dreams that wake her with the urge to write them out or record them. She hasn’t had a proper sleep since before she got the call to come and see him in the hospital. 

                   “Mm, that sounds nice…   But it’s okay. I’m awake now, just tired…”       She peeks up from the pillow to observe him, sitting up properly at the mention of kicking her off the couch. Willow picks up the pillow, hugging it to her chest to make room for him to sit in it’s place.        “–Come, sit. I like watching you play.” 

He’s heard her.     Late at night when he can’t sleep, for every time he closes his eyes the darkness jolts him back awake. Reminding him too vividly of the inky depths... watching sunlight being taken away from him through fractured waters. It is those times when he lays awake, clutching at his sheets, considering inviting her into his bed. Hoping that someone holding him might make it easier to sleep. Something always stops him, and he hasn’t quite put his finger on why yet. An odd hesitation to open up his heart to her once more...                   “I can’t promise I’ll be any good...”      he says, as he’s standing up from the chair and coming to sit beside her. Controller in hand while he’s getting everything set up, and he glances at her from the side of his eyes.     “You can lay down if you’re still tired. I don’t mind.” 

[unholyrite]

unpossession​:

           “Well  I’m  awake  now…”         Willow grumbles.   For a minute it’s back to the old days; she’s scowling at him, he’s smiling at her. She begrudges his very presence, existence, because for a moment she forgets that they’re in love. She isn’t really sure where they are, only that she’s annoyed that her sleep has been disturbed, that her private ritual has been interrupted – but then it all comes back, the ache in her neck from sleeping on the sofa, the knowledge in his eyes as he looks down at her. Don’t think she doesn’t clock those shoes, too, she’s half-asleep but not completely unaware. Her scowl softens into an embarrassed smile. 

                             “Yeeah… It’s easier than trying to write things down while I can barely open my eyes.”    She clicks the ‘off’ button on the recorder and lets it fall from her hand to the floor, nuzzling her pillow with a small groan. Still exhausted. Has been ever since the hospital. Willow hides her face from the light.        “I had more stuff to say but you rudely interrupted. Might have lost me a future book deal with whatever ideas I lost. You should be very, very apologetic.” 

“Oh, I am terribly sorry. Next time I’ll leave you to your process.”      He has taken note of the exhaustion on her face before it disappears into the pillow. It mustn’t be the most comfortable of sleeping places for how long she’s been staying here. Even if he did make sure to get the most comfortable couch money could buy. There is something different about the comfort of a bed. A hand comes up to run over his head -- an odd habit he’s picked up since the hospital. It’s strange no longer having his hair, even stranger that he didn’t get much of a choice. He supposes he could have left the rest where it was and sported a bald patch over his stitches. It could have been a look.     His mind is wandering, constantly drawn back to that place. That time. He clears his throat, dropping his hand to his lap.             “You know, if you want to get some actual comfortable sleep, you’re more than welcome to take my bed for the next few hours. I was planning on kicking you off the couch so I could play some games anyways.” 

[unholyrite]

unpossession​:

                “You were right to worry. I was behaving… Erratically. I was – hurting myself,”           She still wants to. That’s the great shame. Everything pulls her back to this place though, in the end. Her thoughts, her body… She wants to be loved. Willow doesn’t think she can get that anywhere but here. She isn’t sure that she wants it from anyone else, either.

What good is the love of a man that takes pleasure in hurting her? He might well care for her, he might well like her, but Willow has already drawn her conclusions on his capacity to love. If he ever does love, it’s a very wrong kind. A very selfish kind. And Willow wouldn’t be able to stomach the things she might have to become to earn something like that from him. 

She hesitates to continue, but Taylor seems to be allowing it. So she does. The words aren’t carefully chosen, and they fight to stay inside her, drawing out the sentence through long, agonising seconds. 

            “I was hurting myself. And when you– When I knew you saw… I was so ashamed that I got ugly. I got nasty. And I– I wanted to die more than anything then, because you found out. I tried so hard to… To make you think I was okay, because I love you. And I don’t want you to worry about me. I thought I had it under control. But I– I’m addicted. I… I’m obsessed with it now. I pushed Arlo away before… I never – I didn’t want him hurt, so I thought if I stayed away it wouldn’t matter what I did… and it felt glamorous, too, Taylor. I felt like I was really doing something, I thought that my writing was… I– I still do. In some ways. I just – I’m not making excuses, I just want you to know where my head was at when I was – I wasn’t right in the head. That’s what I’m – I’m getting at. I was struggling with something and I have been since the whole thing with Ben and I just wanted to escape myself, and that was how I– how I did it. And it was wrong. And I’m sorry.” 

It is with a detached state of calm that Taylor listens.     It is the only way she can listen, for if she lets herself feel her emotions they will boil up and explode. Thankfully, at least in this case, this is a skill she had to learn at a young age. Carried through into her everyday now. All of the hurt and worry and anger shoved down and bottled up until it has to come out somehow. Even if that somehow is an invasion of personal privacy. She remains calm, only the slightest flinch at the mention of Arlo’s name. It feels blasphemous to bring him up, but she knows it must be so.  She stays still, contemplating. After a bout of silence she reaches across the table and places her hand over Willow’s.  “I know what you went through with Ben was tough. I know that you’re hurting, and I know, I get it. I know what it’s like to feel terrible. I empathise with you for that...”     it’s a strong start, but her face is darkened.     “If you want my help, I’ll help you, but I won’t be able to do that if you’re not ready for me to help. I can’t force you to get better, that’s something that has to come from you...” This time, when she pauses, she takes in a strong breath. Like what she is about to say next is something that could easily tip the scales one way or the other.  “I’m going to say this one time, and one time only. I am going to say it now so we can get it out of the way... I have to say it because I know Arlo never will, and I have to say it because I love him more than anything. He would never be able to live with losing you like that. I mean, I couldn’t either but -- it would be different for him. If you love him like you say you do, you have to get your shit together. I won’t let you hurt him like that.” 

[unholyrite]

arlo   wright    posted:    📸  @ taylorwright  

[unholyrite]

rosewiltd​:

♡   ,   spotify wrapped    ,   @unholyrite​   .

       ❝  I wish things were different, but I’ll never know.  ❞

so good  -  halsey

There is something to be said of the past’s icy grip.   The what if’s. Taylor knows how tightly it can take hold. She gives a knowing nod, turning her head so she can stare blankly into the distance.      “I get what you mean. It’s --- hard.” 

[unholyrite]

@loetise​  sent:      kisses taylor on her mouth<3

To be treated with such tenderness brings a warmth across her chest.    A shyness that she doesn’t usually wear comes out as she leans into the honeyed kiss. This intimacy comes as a welcomed gift, as Taylor reaches up and brushes her fingertips against Allie’s cheek. Only breaking their kiss so that she can bring in a shaking breath, she smiles sweetly.      “What was that for?” 

[unholyrite]

cause   who   am   i   if   not   exploited. 

[unholyrite]

the temptation to make this blog more open to other people and having more interactions w my characters vs the freedom of doing whatever i want on here …

[unholyrite]

honestly i think more people should wanna kiss taylor right on her sarcastic lil mouth. shut her up!!!