Desperate - F Avery

Avery & number 13 from this list…

“Please, just hear me out!” Avery insists, taking a step forward.

“No,” You say firmly, your feet planted even as she draws closer, “It’s suicide.”

“It’s the only choice I have.”

“It’s not,” You hiss, “You’re a desperate fool to even believe it would work.”

“If it does, it saves more than one life. If not, only mine is forfeit.” Her jaw flexes, clenching and unclenching, “I have to try.”

“Have you ever considered that I care enough about you to stop you from running off like this? To certain death?” You snap, “Because I do. I love you, and if you love me in return then you will drop this.”

“I have to save them.” She pleads quietly.

“The weight of the world is not on your shoulders,” You meet him halfway, reaching to grab her upper arms in a tight grip, “One mistake doesn't mean you owe the universe your very soul. Especially not a mistake that only ended up hurting you.”

She’s silent for a moment, refusing to meet your eyes. You shake her, perhaps a bit desperate yourself.

“Avery, please.”

She must hear the breaking in your voice because she finally looks at you. She meets your gaze, one hand slipping up to brush a stray hair from your face. Her fingers glide down your cheek, enraptured by something only she can see. You loosen your grip slightly but still keep a hold of her, ever cautious.

“I do love you.” She says.

You let out a shaking breath, “Then listen to me. If there is a way that doesn’t result in your meaningless slaughter, we will find it. I just can’t lose you too.”

Her expression fractures before shattering open before you. As she watches you strip yourself emotionally bare, she must find the courage to do the same. She pries your hands gently from her arms before holding them close, your palms resting against her chest.

Her heartbeat is a frenzy of movement beneath your fingertips.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. It’s been a long time since…well, since someone has been around to care if I make it home.” She confesses quietly, “I had forgotten.”

“Then I will remind you,” You affirm, clenching the fabric of her shirt in your hands, “Each and every time you want to do something so stupid.”

“I’m sure you will,” Her eyes are soft, and she squeezes your hands gently.

You swallow, some of the tension in your body bleeding out. She reaches down to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you close until her face is pressed into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” She mummers against your skin.

“I know.”

“I love you.”

You run a hand through her hair, “I know that, too. Just stop giving me stress migraines and we’ll be good to go.”

Her laugh makes her warm breath tickle your skin, the sensation washing over you completely. Maybe she’d be alright. Maybe you would be alright, as well.