There was the room and then there was him. Two very separate units of matter on the outside, being that one was a place and one was an occupant. But if maybe one were to squint hard enough, strip the haze away; sharpen the feathering edges they would begin to see that there was something missing. Or more accurately, everything had blended into one. Carbon dating began somewhere around dusk, right after Boyd had effectively cleared the home of every speck of dirt and settled on the gnawing milk of paranoia. A routine that had initiated almost as soon as he was re-united with the country home and it’s holy concierge.Smiling the great smile, the one he knew could melt away some of the dry ice that had collected in Ava’s crevices had granted him entry into the home, but not much farther. Her distance with him had began to form a scummy film on his palate, one that couldn’t be stripped no matter how much soaking and scrubbing was attempted. It had all began to drift past his comprehension and settled into this makeshift desert of disassociation. Maybe it was time she needed? a little space to process the reputed judiciary system that had them both ensnared. Maybe she didn’t love him anymore?…Maybe she had made a deal? The last notion a fleeting concept that he would shake from his head violently, bury it down deep between striations of everything they’d been though. Deny it vociferously.
It would creep up regardless. Stain his teeth black with it’s accuracy and throw him into a frenzy that could only be expressed positively by scouring the home. Practically get down on hands and knees and carved up the greasy lines between the floorboards. Watch the congealed gum of generations curl up like so many wood shavings. Strip away the past so that maybe the present and the future could hold that same jubilation they use to share. Get that real smile back, not the one she would craft in the morning for his benefit. Boyd hated that fuckin’ smile.
Even with the home sanctified, the feeling permeated as the clock began rolling into evening hours. No mention of her whereabouts or even if her extra-curricular interests would keep her out to such an hour began to cause indigestion. The enthralling ecosystem of his belly in violent revolt with racing thoughts of his unraveling by her hand. So vivid these useless visions he found himself quarter burnt through her stashed cigarettes and bottle of wild turkey. Residual concerns finally taking a back burner to some of the more pressing . Like finally getting them both free and clear of all the ruckus this county seems to spew. Existed as wholly different creatures if they wanted; reborn in the eyes of excommunication.
Having snuffed out the last cigarette far before Ava’s motor ground grooves into the clay meant the air was clear when she entered. Mashed artistic expression of so many kinked butts spilling from the side’s of the ashtray the only remaining evidence. Regardless, he made an effort to pull the guilty pile towards him, away from the limelight by simply sliding it across the table away from her presence.
“You’re home late.”
Evading her concern for what may have been a nescient stall of his inner dialogue displayed blatantly over his features meant Boyd was quick to move. With the aid of palms pressed into the universal lip, slow rolling hips and spine finally coalesced long enough to lift his frame. So many elongated moments made the rise obscenely slow, staggered time caught between every notch in his vertebrae before standing at attention and pivoting on the spike. A flagrant sway of obligate stance before embarking on the waters that detached them, sailing into the curvature. Wordlessly docking the length of arm around the depression of her waist he interrupted her anxious deeds with a full assault of his physicality.
“Where were you?”
My whereabouts ain’t your concern anymore.
Sliding blanch gallon over frigid grates, ducked carriage reeled into unfurled composure. Thumbs gently nudged cardboard carton open, only to reveal near collision’s evidence by way of couple fractured rudiments hidden beneath its cover. Silently exhaling her frustration, digits carefully planted each imperforate egg along elliptically carved hollows in the midst of disregarding the outlaw’s overt observation. Liberated inmate knew investigative inquiry would likely be a consequence of her backdoor trysts with the law, but she hadn’t anticipated such trenchant interrogation methods. Casually folding refrigerator door shut, wooden pedestals ambulated toward garbage can, tooled leather beak hoisting plastic lid as hands abandoned pallid coffer in a hasty toss. Scant viscous film had somehow coated digits and she retreated toward the sink for a swift cleanse.
Slurred movements dismayed cerulean crooks, signaling his imminent intrusion as boots swiveled toward trickling fountain water. Descended hands dug up aridity by means of stained cloth and gaze flickered in the disembodied aesthesis of his looming presence, encountering a tarnished glass portrait so haunting, tiny bristles canvasing silken nape raised on end. Ghosting fornenst her ethereal features, his reflection augmented through the obscurity beyond nebulous fenestra, awakening bittersweet recollections entombed beneath reticent facade. Ava’s plump, coral lips parted ever so slightly in anamnesis and garnered eerie breeze as metaphysical became tangible, his muscled limb enveloping her whole.
She was rigid against his form initially, sapphires timorously fixed on olivines through their ghostly echo as vivid bursts bore upon nigh collision; staggering belle in regress until kindred ungulate reappeared before her. Again, she discovered herself stunned, staring into mirroring apertures in hopes of eidolic counsel, but she received no answer. Forsaken by the creature as its image transcendentally faded within third eye, doe abandoned her amidst a critical rumination; to scorn his advances with thrashing antlers and flee for safe haven overhead or risk surrendering to his securely fastened embrace? The latter was the duplicitous of either, but should she commit, there would be a mighty treacherous cliff to climb. Opening up to Boyd by any means would be a true corroboration imprisoning a capacity to unveil whatever weaknesses she may have still harbored for him; an inferable chance she would lose her grip and plummet to her demise.
But if she were to succeed, it had to be done.
Capsizing astern, voluptuous frame anchored into embrace as she languidly sank into him, heavy burden respiring in the languid rise and fall of svelte shoulders. “It’s been a long night, Boyd. Don’t much care for talkin’ ‘bout it.” Warm amber and tobacco soaked redolence vellicated senses and graceful neck craned aslant, chin inclining toward former fiancé. “Let’s leave it be, alright?” Hushed plead poured from lips as morose gaze met his. He was drunk and Ava wasn’t about to argue, not tonight. She wasn’t ready to discuss the matters weighing heavy on his mind.
….
“Almost hit a deer on my way home.
Nearly gave me a heart attack.
Now, you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
Have you got colour in your cheeks?
Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift
The tide that sticks around like something’s in your teeth?
Are there some aces up your sleeve?
Have you no idea that you’re in deep?
I dreamt about you nearly every night this week.
How many secrets can you keep?
‘Cause there’s this tune I found,
That makes me think of you somehow
And I play it on repeat until I fall asleep.
Spilling drinks on my settee.
Everything’s gonna be alright, Ava.
Braised with apprehension, the U.S Marshal’s empty assertions haunted her. Now, how many times had she heard those exact words coming from a man’s mouth? And among those occasions, which number of them turned out favorably? None. Not one, god damned time, did anything turn out alright. She was caught in a vicious cycle of dependency on others for her survival, and as the war waged on, she felt as though its infinite gyration would never meet an end.
I know you can do this, so you damn well better.
Slow, writhing astriction permeated throughout her core as digits coiled around steering wheel, grip tightening ‘til the blood flow drained from strained knuckles. Raylan was amaurotic by his desperation; it was crystal in his punitive tone and evident in his towering movements. The ebb and flow of his jowls cautioned her, an unfriendly reminder that the wolf hungering rectitude would not hesitate in routing her along with his intended prey should she hinder his course. Ava knew there was no room for incertitude or distraction, but perhaps her objective might’ve been more competently carried out if she held the same illusion of confidence he erroneously regarded in her.
It wasn’t so much could or couldn’t.She didn’t have a choice.
Luring chilled draft betwixt apricot lips, tar coated lungs wearily expanded. She could feel the great Appalachians lumbering heavily upon svelte shoulders and sprawling roots of trembling pines slithering around her chest. Ingurgitating their constriction, hoarse distention precipitated within the depths of graceful throat and shivering forelimb reached. Fingers dug through cluttered belongings within umber leather purse in hopes of finding nicotine redress. Eyes averting from winding yellow frontier, she hadn’t searched for her smokes and lighter more than a few breaths ere an aphotic shadow emerged into peripheral corners. Silhouette poured like attenuated slurry from betwixt ancient firs and flowed across illuminated pavement beneath detection. It wasn’t until movement obtruded fluorescent fluctuation that she finally took notice, azures and sandy lashes swollen.
“Shit!”
Bracing for impact ahead, soaring arch frantically pummeled brake pedal, extended knee lurching vehicle into a screeching halt. Gradually, foggy exhausts from charred rubber and concrete cleared, ungulate remaining, unscathed, just beaming. Silently staring back into doe wide eyes, ears finely tuned to the frantic heartbeat drumming in her chest. She too became still, and for a fleeting moment, their exchange felt familiar. Call her delusional, but somehow, she constituted a figment of herself staring back in that deer’s gaze. Maybe it was the shock and adrenaline lingering in the thin atmosphere causing such a peculiar mirage, or her ever-present desire to flee for her own survival, but an ephemeral sensation coursing through every inch of her being felt as if the creature could tell her where her heart was, how she was still breathing.
Ceruleans fastened into darkness, a long exacerbated gust dissevering lips. Dilated pupils timidly unveiled, the deer no longer barricading paved artery ahead. “Jesus Christ,” lords name in vain, she finally nestled overdue cigarette between glowered pouts. Tarnished wooden sole released constraints and flame irradiated cab as she set fire to tobacco and paper, arthy aroma lulling her senses. Despite placating her addiction, she remained unnerved; the remainder of her drive entailing silent chain smoking and pragmatic contemplation. In the end, fretfulness had hardly dissipated as worn tires touched onto gravel driveway. Her daunting trepidation was nowhere near over.
Hooking twin grocery bags onto clenched forearm and slinging purse over shoulder, she exited the vehicle, then headed toward dimly lit porch. Heels shuffling over hollow planks along with raspy rusting hinges revealed her arrival. Swaying through threshold, ticking steps faltered before kitchen entryway in sight of the outlaw idly arranged at kitchen table. A flickering gaze digested his melancholic expression and her own demeanor canvased palpable concern against pale features. She herself looked as if she’d seen a ghost, and perchance, her curiosity could’ve very well stemmed from self-preservation. Her desultory disappearances and rendezvous were becoming a frequent affair and Boyd was the most intuitive man she’d ever known.
“ is everythin’ alright?” And there it was, that fucking phrase again, words triggering. Everythin’ alright. Gut painstakingly cringed and in a quick attempt to elude awareness, she casually advanced toward kitchen counter. Sifting through tomorrow morning’s provisions, she replenished empty coffee container and then proceeded brushing past him toward the fridge with milk in one hand and a fresh carton of eggs delicately clutched in the other. “Went out and got us some things for breakfast in the mornin’. I should really get to grocery shoppin’ at some point.”
well, he fell in love with a gun street girl
and now he’s dancing in the birmingham jail
A.G.
(via attractionns)
