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[PRP] Skeleton Me (Wash / Sasha) (2steamy) (no page 3) Goto Page: 1 2 [>] [»|]

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Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 6:17 pm


It's been a long time. He tried the phrase out in his head, rolling it around the tip of his tongue. Tasting it.

No. It was true, but it wasn't right, it lacked nuance, lacked -

He should just stay away. It was better for them both. His fist had been hovering over the door, about to knock, but he drew back. It was inappropriate, after all this time. It would just complicate things. She was strong, she was sure -

she was glass, she was broken, she was so fragile and she had trusted him and he had abandoned her-

The past was best forgotten.

Wash closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sighing heavily, and retreated.

Running away.
PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 6:42 pm


The sound of footsteps pausing outside of her door had caught her attention mid-meal. Sasha merely assumed that it was Evan; when the footsteps moved away from her door, her dark brows drew together in slight annoyance.

The huntress did not hesitate in padding over to the door; clad in her frog-themed pajama bottoms, grotesque frog slippers and a simple tank, she had not been prepared for entertaining - but Evan had seen her in things more awful than this, and so she did not give a second thought to opening the door so that she could peer out into the hallway.

The sight that greeted her very nearly brought her to her knees. Broad shoulders that she knew so, so well; the fit of his jacket, the way he carried himself.

Two years.

Sasha very nearly closed the door and locked herself inside. She very nearly crumpled, shattered, splintered. How much was left? How much more could she break?

"Washington Becker."

Her voice caught, hitched, ended on a sigh.

Ravvlet

bipolar bee

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Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 8:30 pm


pinchmonster


Her voice was an electric current up his spine, ecstasy and pain in one disjointed chord. He stiffened automatically, lurching to a stop. He wanted to run, run to her, run from her, to disappear.

Can you be brave for me?

How could he have asked it of her, when he couldn't?

With exaggerated slowness, Wash turned to face her, stilling his features, trying to erase the months of loneliness and fear from his face. He could not give her his pain, not after...

He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again.

"Frogs," he managed finally.

I'm sorry, he wanted to say, but the words were empty and meant nothing. Seeing her again made his chest ache, and his knuckles went white as he squeezed Sally's token reflexively in his fist.

If she were a knife, he would ask that she cut out his heart.
PostPosted: Fri Apr 24, 2015 5:59 am


He had been the only thing that had ever really belonged only to her - and even then, he hadn't really, not completely. Washington Becker had kept his ghosts close to him, locked away in a little bible that he'd kept at their bedside table. Even still, he'd been hers, and Sasha had been his - so much so that she'd tried (oh, how she'd tried) to change for him.

To be better for him.

Sasha had convinced herself, for all intents and purposes, that she had never (and would never) be enough for the first man she'd ever really loved - and, if she were to be really quite honest with herself, the last man she would ever love.

Washington Becker had taken everything that she could have offered to him willingly, all the pieces of herself that were soft and secret and beautiful and weak and hidden - and he'd run away. He'd stolen them from her and she would never get them back because they were still his.

Sasha took a step towards him, a halting half-shuffle, and then another, and another - and then she was on him, arms wrapping around his neck before a low, ugly sob tore free from her throat.

Ravvlet

bipolar bee

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Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Fri Apr 24, 2015 11:00 am


pinchmonster


It took him a moment to react, but when he did, he snaked his arms around her, burying one fist in her long, thick hair. He breathed deep - why did it always feel like he was drowning, like air that didn't smell of her could never satisfy - and closed his eyes.

"Sasha, Sasha, Sasha," he chanted softly, a deep baritone that was almost a whisper. It was a prayer, the first he'd uttered in many months and many, many days - days that were dull and empty like static. It took what little was left off his willpower to do anything more than stand there and wrap himself in that one, sweet moment.

What can you say when there is so much left unsaid, like snowdrifts piling up and burying the memories deep? What can you say when time has wormed itself around your heart, filling in the gaping holes with litter and trash and broken glass?

Denise. Daniel. And now her. He could never begin to deserve any of them.

Fear was an electric thrill, ever constant, a raft upon which he was adrift in a tumultuous sea of shame and guilt and regret.

He fell silent again.
PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 6:16 am


It was kind of funny how fast time could rewind if one really wanted it to. It was not something that Sasha could explain - she was awash in his voice, the breadth of his shoulders, the smell of his skin and the way she felt so utterly safe being held in his arms. It was two years ago, it was the last time they'd come together in an explosion of light and beauty and feelings that had no earthly words to explain them. Sasha never wanted to lose it, this feeling the sight of him evoked once more. She never wanted time to move again, and couldn't they just stand here forever, holding one another, couldn't they just forget the world around them?

She knew the answer. She loathed the answer.

Sasha Belrose had given too much of herself, time and time again, and now there was nothing left in her that was worth loving - nothing left in her that was capable of the emotion. She knew how to project herself, she knew how to carry herself out in public. That wasn't the issue. She could be that woman. No, those long nights alone when she didn't have anyone to validate her, when she didn't have anyone to hold her, when she didn't have anyone to make her feel safe - those hours felt the longest. The most unsurvivable.

But if she stood there, just a little longer, and let herself forget, maybe it would be enough. Just for a little while.

Inhaling the unique smell of him, just one more time, Sasha tightened her arms around his neck.Relished in the feel of his arms holding her close. She soaked him in, and then she pulled away completely. Her face was emotionless as she lifted a hand and struck him across the face as hard as she could; the resounding snap echoed, and her palm burned just a little.

It did not stop her from slapping him again with a low, horrid sound.

Ravvlet

bipolar bee

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Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 11:50 am


pinchmonster

He sighed; a faint, whistling sound. His arms fell to his sides. The pain was a welcome kind of baptism - it was his due. After the hours of emptiness and days that folded neatly into each other, the sharp sting of her delicate hands connecting cruelly with his flesh was a spark, and he felt the shadows stir inside him. The fear was alive and well, gluttonous and festering.

A distant part of him remembered another time and place - a cruel stadium filled with jeering spectators. A slip of a woman bearing on him with weapons drawn, drunk off of violence and whatever illusions Medea had fed her. He wasn't brave then, he realized with a disconcerting nonchalance. Dying at her hands had been the easy choice. To do nothing and await his fate - with her as his judge, jury and executioner.

This was as it should be. Washington Becker was a sinner, and he had found Hell in his own impotence.

He clenched his fists and let her beat him like a dog.
PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 1:14 pm


-- you left me you left me you left me i loved you and you left you left you left --

Sasha slapped him until her hands burned hot and red and his cheeks turned ruddy under his beautiful, dark skin. The first few connects had been cathartic, a release of everything she'd thought he'd taken with him. Every emotion that she thought she could no longer feel, every reminder of him that she'd buried deep. Sasha had forced them all into a small, black piece of tar that she'd hidden, tucked away until it had merely rotted into nothing.

Nothin' can break us 'less we let it.

She had. She'd let him in, and she'd let him do this to her.

Her hands, small and pale, curled into fists. Her mouth twisted into something horrible, ugly; teeth bared, Sasha let out another pathetic noise and slammed her fists into his chest. She couldn't talk, not yet, now when she didn't trust herself to say things she could never take back - even when she knew Wash deserved every hateful thing she had to say.

Despite her best attempt, despite the way she clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached with the force of it, three words forced themselves past her lips.

"You left me."

Ravvlet

bipolar bee

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PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 1:47 pm


pinchmonster


The blows to the chest were harder still, the superhuman strength behind them evident in spite of the FEAR shield protecting him. He wished he could turn it off. He wished he could bruise and scar and bleed for her on the outside as he had within, to be released from the pain that surged from his very center and crawled up his throat, choking off his words.

With a tenderness that stood in sharp contrast to the otherwise violent exchange, Wash wrapped his larger hands around her small, tightly curled fists. He held them close for the barest of moments, his touch feather-light.

Eyes closed, he whispered the admission that had sent him running; that had kept him running up until this moment.

"I couldn't..."

The sickly-sweet scent of charred flesh, the dying embers of her burnt hair. Just so much meat, nothing left of the slip a girl he had tried to save.

"I can't live, t' watch you die."

And there had been so many little deaths, real and imagined, besides that one. Every discovery, every mission; every assignment. Pieces of them all were worn away by the flood of horrible experiences; a thousand thousand shards of their hearts and souls and minds eroded away. The push and pull of the tide, sucking away at the sand until there was nothing left but an empty husk that had once been warm and bright and human -

Until only fear remained.
PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 2:14 pm


Sasha let out a sound of derisive amazement.

"Coward."

She pulled her hands away from him, movements tense and jerky. Sasha lifted her chin as though in doing so might hide the tears that rolled down her cheeks. Her breath came fast, choppy - but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her break down and cry. She would not.

But she did.

A hoarse sob broke free, and Sasha slowly sank to her knees before him. Her hair settled around her in a veil of thick waves. Another sob, and she curled her arms around her waist. Sasha began weeping in earnest; ugly, ugly things and she hated herself for it but she hated him more - and despite it all, she loved him still.

"How? How could you do this to me. After everything?!"

The words were spoken around sobs that she could not stop from coming.

"I hate you."

Ravvlet

bipolar bee

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Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 3:18 pm


pinchmonster


The twin tracks of tears that rolled down his own cheeks were silent. He bowed his head.

"I understand." I'm a stupid, selfish man.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, after all this time. The broken sounds emitting from the figure at his feet worried at what little was left of his composure. He had expected her anger, her sense of betrayal; even her hatred. What he hadn't expected was for her to be so... Real. So vulnerable. To show that side of herself, even though he had done nothing to earn it and everything to push it away.

My eyes fail from weeping,
I am in torment within;
my heart is poured out on the ground-


It had been a long time since he had remembered anything besides the empty place beside him in bed - a long time since Washington Becker had thought anything of God or hymns or scripture. Like everything else, he had left those parts of himself behind. It was easier to exist instead like some baser creature - to eat, to sleep, to breathe, but not to think, never to rise above his own earthly nature.

He punched the wall, leaving a fist-shaped hole. The violence surprised him, broke the surface of the numbness that had begun to creep in behind the pain and anguish.

He had been a fool, to come here.

"I won't insult you by apologizin'."

What can I say for you?
To what can I liken you, that I may comfort you?
Your wound is as deep as the sea. Who can heal you?


The memory of his father's voice bore him no comfort this time; it only served to deepen his shame.
PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 5:36 pm


Her sobs reached a crescendo, peaked, and then softened. Wash had always been her safe place, a place she'd tried to find in creating a home for herself - and when that didn't work, she'd pieced it together in the arms of another man who wasn't really hers alone. Sasha's sobs broke on a harsh laugh.

Washington Becker had never been hers alone, either. There had always been the shadow of his past lurking between them, a piece of him locked away that would never belong to her. Sasha had come to terms with that; what he given her had always been enough, despite it. He'd sacrificed so much of himself for her - he would have even sacrificed his life - and Sasha understood that. She was a selfish creature, and perhaps losing him had been the penance she'd been forced to pay.

Perhaps that same selfishness was what drove her to slowly reach out, to clutch the butter-soft denim of his jeans just above the knee. She did not shrink when he struck the wall; instead, Sasha tugged, still softly hiccuping, before lifting her swollen eyes to meet his. He was strong, powerful, beautiful - and he had his own demons, just as she did. She knew she was one of them; in truth, she relished in that.

"If you leave me again," her voice trembled, but she spoke loudly and with purpose, "I will kill you."

Sasha's voice was dark and filled with ominous promise. She would not allow for him to be so close again - but he was hers and always had been, since the first time they'd come together until the last.

She released his jeans and rather regally held out her hand for him to take - a silent demand that he assist her to her feet.

Ravvlet

bipolar bee

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Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 7:38 pm


I will kill you.

Wash met her gaze, and knew with the same certainty with which his heart still beat that she was serious. It didn't frighten him like it ought, though, seeing his own death in the shine of her eyes, the hard line of her mouth; the delicate curve of her cheek. It was almost a release, and he felt some tension within him snap. They would all die in the end - and it was a coward's wish to go first, but he had already proven himself a coward through and through. What she had offered him was a gift, and he could only strive to deserve it.

Wash found comfort in knowing his conclusion could be found in those hands, in the darkness he knew blossomed inside her.

Gravely, he offered her his hand.

"Yes ma'am," he intoned, serious rather than mocking.
PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 9:20 pm


It wasn't until Sasha was absolutely certain that he knew she was serious that she allowed him to help her to her feet. She lifted her chin regally, composed once more despite the redness around her eyes, her nose. His cheeks were still red, and she lifted her hand to brush her fingers against his skin. Her thumbnail dragged against his lower lip before she pulled away completely.

"Come," she ordered quietly, smoothing her fingers down his arm so that she could take his hand. The initial shock of seeing him again had yet to pass, but privacy felt necessary.

Lacing her fingers between his, Sasha moved towards her room. She would not stop until they were secure behind her closed door.

The room was clean. There was a dent in the wall above the plush leather couch; a small kitchenette took up much of the living space - a large, oversized bed dominated the far wall. There was also a private bathroom, a small wine cooler, and a decently sized closet.

"Sit," she ordered. "I have wine, and tea." It was a question without really being a question - he would drink something. There was beer in the fridge, as well, but it was something she'd purchased for Evan, and so she would not offer it to Wash.

She retrieved a bottle from the wine cooler, and did not bother with a glass. Everything ached, and it really was all his fault. She would not allow him to forget it.

Ravvlet

bipolar bee

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Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 10:04 pm


pinchmonster


Wash resisted the urge to touch his lip, allowing himself to be steered into her room. Sasha, it would seem, had moved up in the world. He sat obediently on the sofa, eyeing the bottle of wine. He recalled the first drink they'd shared, on a beach in what felt like a simpler and more innocent world.

"Whatever you're havin'," he replied finally.

He let his eyes meander across the small space. He was, he had to admit, a little awed. Unlike him, she had kept growing in his absence, carving a place for herself in the world. While he had... Well. He had simply existed.

He stared down at his hands.

"How do you do it?" He asked suddenly.

Sasha Belrose was a beautiful, intoxicating mess - and yet she kept clawing her way inexorably forward. She was like one of those cubist paintings, a jumble of contrasting colors and angles that somehow captured the idea of movement even in it's stillness.
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THIS IS HALLOWEEN: Deus Ex Machina Training Facilities

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