Maryanne Elizabeth Walker (maryanne_walker) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2012-08-07 01:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, maryanne walker (oe) |
Far too long...
Who: Maryanne and Daryl
Where: Close to the Spire
What: Reunion!
When: After this
Rating: There is the possibility of some adult stuff.
Open: Probably best that it's not.
Status: Closed/ Ongoing
Maryanne would have sworn she was having a stroke the moment she heard his voice. Her body went completely numb. How many times had she heard it in her dreams, since coming to this god awful place? She couldn't count. How often had she woke up to his scent, rolled over and found that he wasn't there? She'd taken to sleeping in the abandon cars on the sides of the road. Switching them up each night, so that she wouldn't get used to the feel of the bench seat on her back. So she wouldn't sleep solidly like she had when she lay beside him. Unsure what this place would throw at her. When it would throw it. Sophia had tried to keep her hopes up. Had tried to get her to move into the apartment with her. But Maryanne couldn't she couldn't fall into that family atmosphere again. It had hurt enough to lose it the first time. The second, to lose Daryl... It had torn her apart. All she could think was that she hadn't said those three stupid important little words. Because she'd been a coward. And she wasn't going to get tomorrow to say them. She hadn't believed it until the moment she heard him. Heard her name in his voice. She just wasn't that lucky. Life was not that kind to her. She didn't get second chances. But this. This was her second chance. And she was damn sure she wasn't going to fuck it up. Maryanne ran through the empty streets, she was half tempted to shift simply so she could get to him quicker. But that wasn't how she wanted him to see her. She didn't want to be the beast when she first saw him. But she didn't care that she looked like shit when he did. Twigs in her hair. Fine line scratches on every inch of exposed skin, from when she tore through the brush just to get back to the city. When his scent hit her, she had to stop. Because it threatened to take her under, back to that moment when she'd first realized everything was lost. She leaned against the tower that George had labeled Isengard's radio station. Trying to catch her breath, and compose herself. But composure was beyond her. Tears spilled over, she covered her mouth with both hands to muffle her sobs. |