@blue_topaz
(Maybe after a bit?)
“Yeah.. they need to believe this, don’t they?” Macha thought for a moment. “Alright. I want you to grip my arm really hard.”
(Maybe after a bit?)
“Yeah.. they need to believe this, don’t they?” Macha thought for a moment. “Alright. I want you to grip my arm really hard.”
(yeah that's okay)
"Why?" Tyler asked, taking a step towards her, not sure if he wanted to do this.
“Just…..” she trailed off, looking away. “Please.”
"I'm not going to do it unless you tell me why.." Tyler responded quietly, raising his hand a little.
“Contact,” she rushed to explain. “Contact like that makes me feel threatened. I can fake a lot of things, but panic isn’t one of them, and we need this to seem real or they’ll lock you up.”
"O-okay.." Tyler stammered, reaching out and taking her arm, holding it just a little tighter then he usually would.
Macha shifted his arm higher, to her bicep. “Tighter.”
Tyler gripped it a little tighter, guilt coursing through him as he did so. “I’m sorry..”
"Don't apologize."
Even now, her voice sounded strained; she had not told him the full reason of why it would make her panic. He was gripping the very spot he hand plunged a knife into, all those months ago… As they always did, memories began to flash before her mind's eye. Her breaths came in quicker. Hand quivering, she retrieved her phone from her back pocket.
“I should be if I’m the one that’s making you panic.” Tyler replied, his own thoughts making it hard to focus once he noticed the tip of the scar he had gave her under his fingers.
The pain, the horror— it was all rushing back now. Macha couldn't make herself look Tyler in the eye, nor could she force herself to turn away completely…. Because what if, when she turned around, the demon had taken his place? Perhaps one of the worst parts of all those months alone was trying to shake the idea that she was terrified, absolutely terrified, of seeing him again.
"I asked you to."
Leaving no room for argument, she dialled 911.
Tyler couldn’t stand holding her like this, no affection whatsoever. He was just the villain and she was his only victim. He watched her dial 911, wondering if she only thing that could send her into a panic was him.
Macha’s whole body was trembling by now as she allowed herself to fully relive the horrific experiences of that night.
She brought the phone to her ear, the false story coming out in a rush.
Tyler waited until she was done telling the cops what had happened to release her arm. He took a step back, doubting that she would want any kind of comfort from him.
The man on the other end of the line reassured her that the police would be right over, and she hung up as soon as possible.
Macha inhaled shakily, squeezing her eyes shut.
Tyler stayed silent, afraid to say anything that might make things worse between them. He walked towards the door slowly. “I’ll just wait downstairs..”
Macha only nodded and sat back on the bed, staring off into empty space. I’m sorry.
Tyler went downstairs, ending up slumped against the wall, devastated at what he had done to her. He heard her apology but didn’t know how to answer.
Macha drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs like a small child, rocking back and forth. Tears began to blur vision, irrational fear began to cloud her senses.
I'm sorry… she repeated, You deserve someone who's not as broken as I am.
But I’m the one who broke you. Tyler replied, wanting her by his side. He glanced back up towards the stairs, but decided it would be best if she was left alone for a while.
No. You're the one who fixed me. This is not your fault. The tears kept coming, no matter for forcefully she wiped them away. I'm pathetic, Tyler. I'm breaking down after you touched my arm. I'm so sorry.
I…how can I help you without hurting you? Tyler asked, standing up slowly.
Macha had to think hard about his question.
Baby steps when I ask for them. Don't let me near sharp knives.
Of course.. He responded, taking a deep breath and resting his hand against the wall to balance himself.
I'm sorry.
Macha forced herself to get up. She pushed her trembling hands into her pockets and descended the stairs slowly, unsteadily.
Tyler heard her coming down the stairs but didn’t look up. He didn’t want to see her face and the pain that he had caused.
“Tyler?”
God, she hated how shaky her voice sounded.
For God’s sake, she told herself, He literally held onto your arm.
Tyler looked up after a second, flinching slightly at how shaky her voice was. “Yeah?”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Macha pleaded, approaching him with the manner of an easily startled deer. “For how broken I am.”
“Well it’s definitely not your fault either.” Tyler responded, keeping his hand on the wall.
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