we trip :: [bette/dustyn] :: on clouds
Apr 24, 2014 20:13:39 GMT -5
Post by tris 🍒 on Apr 24, 2014 20:13:39 GMT -5
![](http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7w47qfxq61qe8i7ko2_250.gif)
BETTE
CHAUTIN
"Bette, where are you? Bette? Bette, hello?"
Dustyn's calls flutter into the chambers of my ears, scaly wings scattering dust upon my childlike world and causing me to peek out from behind my hidden spot with a wide smile. "If I told you, you'd win the game," I yell, voice almost too husky and too womanly for the childish glee that rings within it. I did feel a bit sorry for my dear friend, always too slow to offer up a rebuttal when I start with my antics, dashing off from his fingers that seem to inch closer and closer to mine with each passing day with a shout of "Catch me if you can!", bright cheeks and bubbling affections seeking shelter.
Nails digging into the bark on which I leaned, I force the thoughts out of my head. As if I would use the games I play as a way to avoid Dustyn's affections; as if Dustyn would actually have some sort of a crush on me. Fingers tap-tap-tapping against the tree, I peek out once more, watching as Dustyn stumbles around in search of me. My wide eyes can't help but to close as I allow my mind to wander off into the clouds, remembering the days when it wasn't just Dustyn, the trees, and I. There had once been a time when four children roamed inside of the forest's labyrinth of trees, but with a slap from fate's cruel hand, we had all found ourselves drifting apart.
Roxanne has wandered off on her own, forging a new group of friends. I like to think back to the nights when her and I would sneak away from the boys during our many outings, gossiping about which was cuter, and my curling hair always bouncing violently as I shook my head in disagreement of her accusations about my crush for Dustyn. She would call me an oblivious idiot with each breath she exhaled in my direction, and sometimes, I can't help but fear that my stubbornness is what drove her away.
Holden wondered off far before Roxanne, and he's the only one of the two that I know for certain that my indecisive heart drove away. Sure, I know all of the legitimate details, how his father forced him and his sister out of the household for not being worthy enough, but I still lie awake at night thinking back to the visit he gave me before his departure. He had stood by my window, begging me to tell him if I did actually love him or not as he pondered the option of leaving the district, I having had used him on more than one occasion as a cover-... No. The moral of the story is that all I could mutter to him was "If you ever come back to me, I'll tell you! You have to come back, Holden! You have to!", before he had nodded with determination and trekked off. He has never returned, and I don't blame him.
Why come back to the fickle friend who treats the world far too much like a game?
Dustyn's the one true friend who has truly stuck by my side throughout my years, and I can't truthfully say that I know the reasons why. I've been nothing but a tyrant to him, a feisty girl barking orders and running away from his straying fingers, screaming when those very fingers stroke the locks of hair that belong to other girls, yet damning all his attempts to tame my heart. Or, more so, damning all of the things that I deem as attempts. It happens on a daily basis, a traveler or couple stopping us, smiling or rolling their eyes. "You two should just get hitched already, for Ripred's sake." Dustyn will rub the back of his neck with a blushing laugh, but I just continue to dash away from it all.
There's no way that my, nor anyone else's, beliefs of Dustyn's affections towards me are true. I'm the finicky little child trapped in the body of a girl far too stubborn to be made of mere flesh, forged from the gold of a fool and malleable in all aspects of the word. Tripping on clouds, I only fall, straight into the arms of my only loyal friend and then dashing away, eyes burnt by the sun's embrace.
I'm terrified of the day that he will leave me, call me the crazy girl that I am and shove me away, him and all his beauty running away from me at a speed that even I cannot match. And yet still, as I hear his footsteps creep up behind me, I force a smile to reappear upon my red lips. This stubborn love is mine to hold, and there are far more important games to play than the ones that plague my mind.
"Oh, Bette? I think I hear your heart beating."
Dustyn's calls flutter into the chambers of my ears, scaly wings scattering dust upon my childlike world and causing me to peek out from behind my hidden spot with a wide smile. "If I told you, you'd win the game," I yell, voice almost too husky and too womanly for the childish glee that rings within it. I did feel a bit sorry for my dear friend, always too slow to offer up a rebuttal when I start with my antics, dashing off from his fingers that seem to inch closer and closer to mine with each passing day with a shout of "Catch me if you can!", bright cheeks and bubbling affections seeking shelter.
Nails digging into the bark on which I leaned, I force the thoughts out of my head. As if I would use the games I play as a way to avoid Dustyn's affections; as if Dustyn would actually have some sort of a crush on me. Fingers tap-tap-tapping against the tree, I peek out once more, watching as Dustyn stumbles around in search of me. My wide eyes can't help but to close as I allow my mind to wander off into the clouds, remembering the days when it wasn't just Dustyn, the trees, and I. There had once been a time when four children roamed inside of the forest's labyrinth of trees, but with a slap from fate's cruel hand, we had all found ourselves drifting apart.
Roxanne has wandered off on her own, forging a new group of friends. I like to think back to the nights when her and I would sneak away from the boys during our many outings, gossiping about which was cuter, and my curling hair always bouncing violently as I shook my head in disagreement of her accusations about my crush for Dustyn. She would call me an oblivious idiot with each breath she exhaled in my direction, and sometimes, I can't help but fear that my stubbornness is what drove her away.
Holden wondered off far before Roxanne, and he's the only one of the two that I know for certain that my indecisive heart drove away. Sure, I know all of the legitimate details, how his father forced him and his sister out of the household for not being worthy enough, but I still lie awake at night thinking back to the visit he gave me before his departure. He had stood by my window, begging me to tell him if I did actually love him or not as he pondered the option of leaving the district, I having had used him on more than one occasion as a cover-... No. The moral of the story is that all I could mutter to him was "If you ever come back to me, I'll tell you! You have to come back, Holden! You have to!", before he had nodded with determination and trekked off. He has never returned, and I don't blame him.
Why come back to the fickle friend who treats the world far too much like a game?
Dustyn's the one true friend who has truly stuck by my side throughout my years, and I can't truthfully say that I know the reasons why. I've been nothing but a tyrant to him, a feisty girl barking orders and running away from his straying fingers, screaming when those very fingers stroke the locks of hair that belong to other girls, yet damning all his attempts to tame my heart. Or, more so, damning all of the things that I deem as attempts. It happens on a daily basis, a traveler or couple stopping us, smiling or rolling their eyes. "You two should just get hitched already, for Ripred's sake." Dustyn will rub the back of his neck with a blushing laugh, but I just continue to dash away from it all.
There's no way that my, nor anyone else's, beliefs of Dustyn's affections towards me are true. I'm the finicky little child trapped in the body of a girl far too stubborn to be made of mere flesh, forged from the gold of a fool and malleable in all aspects of the word. Tripping on clouds, I only fall, straight into the arms of my only loyal friend and then dashing away, eyes burnt by the sun's embrace.
I'm terrified of the day that he will leave me, call me the crazy girl that I am and shove me away, him and all his beauty running away from me at a speed that even I cannot match. And yet still, as I hear his footsteps creep up behind me, I force a smile to reappear upon my red lips. This stubborn love is mine to hold, and there are far more important games to play than the ones that plague my mind.
"Oh, Bette? I think I hear your heart beating."