INNOCENCE IS NEVER NEW

h a r l e y   q u i n n
PRO-LEAGUE BIRD CATCHER.
penned by TINKS
she/her. gmt. first est. july 2016.
ind/sel/pri. proceed with caution.

THE DIARY
THE CASE FILE
DIAL-A-CLOWN
THEME CRED

BLACK KEEPS BLEEDING THROUGH


@clownbleach

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                  His drink clatters on the marble floor. Glass scatters like night rain on the pale of it and he just… WATCHES her. Eyes from a snow storm and he hopes they strike the fear of god into her. They should. Have before. A slight bearing forward, shoulders heaving in almost feline sense of viciousness. But voice comes quiet. Answers back as a hand RUNS through green locks. “Yeah, real comfortable      
                  Rage makes him fly. Something possessed and holy all at once as he comes down on her, pinned and fragile the nearest wall in no time with a hand ripping at her hair. Spit flies from PLATED mouth. “NO ONE TALKS ABOUT ‘EM. NOT EVEN  YOU OR ME, NO ONE. NO ONE. NO- NO- NO- NO-” Fist beats her skull against the plaster, like a tired child’s tantrum.
NO.
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           The pain in the back of her head shot through first, followed by the pounding THUD of each of his words. In stereo, full volume, point blank range. Anger radiating from him, hitting her in waves as if she were crashing against the rocks, drowning, never to resurface. They were NEVER spoken about. As if they had never existed and while she herself had been more than fine with that decision, there was a monster beating in the depths of her chest, ready to claw it’s way out at their mere mention. 
           Tiny, bleached white hands push forward against his chest, pushing him back away a few inches, teeth clenched together so hard she was afraid she might chip something. Her chest tightened, burned, as the monster began tearing at the flesh beneath her rib cage, fighting it’s way to the surface as she pushed forward, tears stinging the corners of her eyes as they widened, staring right back at him.  “….why?”  One simple word fell from her lips, head still pounding, voice harsh and low.  “WHY?”  Word repeated as her hands clenched at the fabric of his shirt, nails digging into her palms, harder now, more force pressed behind them. 
            Stepping forward, into his space, eyes never left his, tears pooling and falling as she blinked them away, chest heaving with each jagged breath she took.  “Why don’t you wanna talk about ‘em? Huh? You…. —- YOU didn’t even want ‘em! They…—- they were EVERYTHIN’…. everythin’ good we ever did…. And you… you wanna pretend like they never happened…. but they DID!”  Pain was almost blinding now, words spoken through gritted teeth, as though she knew it wasn’t wise, knew it wouldn’t end well, even as the tears slipped down bleached white cheeks. 

(via clownbleach-archive)

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