@heygutlcss​ / riff sent: ‘ you can relax. we’re safe here.’

the judge has been in a foul mood lately. mostly, she feels for the staff who are usually the victims of his blunt anger. for them it isn’t enough to nod their leads and go along with his requests ( and never question where they’ve come from, even if they seem to be from the pit of paranoia ). there isn’t much she can do to make up for the master of the house’s demands, except demand even less. the new housekeeper, however, only seems bitter about it. johanna tries to forget what she hears when she goes into the kitchens, but her cruel words prod at her. it is selfish of her to escape from the tension in the household, to take the hand of a man she is not married to once they were away from kearney’s lane, and request that they go to his apartment. sneaking over there is suspicious, she knows, but no where else feels safe in the slightest. 

she tugs on a loose curl. ❝ sorry, ❞ johanna mumbles. ❝ he’s just been - ❞ a light sigh ❝ - difficult. ❞ the pulling grows more frantic as she pauses. perhaps, there is a real reason for his paranoia. the way he seems to be keeping more of an eye on her lately. every single door she’s tried has been locked lately. the hiring of a new housekeeper after mrs. eastman’s attempts to convince him to give her more freedoms . . . oh, dear. ❝ sorry, sorry, sorry! i shouldn’t have come. i really shouldn’t have - i’m sorry. ❞ he’s had someone spying on her all this time, hasn’t he? he knows everything and he’s going to kill riff and she’s . . . well, johanna doesn’t know what he’ll do with her, but she doesn’t want to find out. hair wraps around her wrist in frantic motions. she stands from where she was sitting before, tone lowering into a half-whisper, ❝ what if he knows? and i just led him straight to you. i’m sorry, i should go now. ❞

i love beta editor and how it remembers my tags :))

 @heygutlcss​  /  riff  sent:  “  you  can’t  expect  me  to  believe  nothing  happened,  not  when  you  flinch  every  time  something  touches  you.  ”

 ❝  i  told  you  not  to  come  in  the  morning.  ❞

 though,  if  she  were  to  actually  look  at  the  clock  she  would  find  out  it  was  mid-afternoon.  johanna  doesn’t.  it’s  easier  to  let  her  head  hang  and  pretend  she’s  immersed  in  her  sewing.  she  hasn’t  attempted  to  make  a  new  stitch  in  her  pattern  for  the  past  hour.  her  fingers  shake  too  much  to  hold  the  silver  in  her  hand  still.  the  physical  shaking  --  what  the  maids  remark  on  when  they  come  to  help  her  dress  in  the  morning  (  although,  she’s  always  already  dressed,  they  keep  coming  )  --  in  her  fingertips,  in  her  limbs,  in  her  spine  is  nothing  compared  to  the  tremors  stuck  inside  of  her  skin.  

 mornings  afterwards  are  the  worst.  before  dawn,  johanna  can  lay  in  bed  with  him  touching  her  still  somehow  and  simply  freeze.  she  can  listen  to  how  shaky  her  breaths  come  out.  wonder  if  she’s  breathing  at  all.  she  can  squeeze  her  eyes  shut  and  try  to  force  her  mind  to  forget  everything  that  happened  hours  before.  train  herself  to  believe  that  she  is  still  nine  years  old  and  the  most  important  thing  in  her  life  are  her  birds.  it  doesn’t  work.  it  never  does.  

 ❝  i  told  you  before  dinner.  i  told  you  afternoons.  afternoons  are  best.  ❞  she  looks  up  at  riff  then.  the  man  who’s  too  good  to  her,  although  he’s  figured  out  that  she  isn’t  exactly  bride  material.  that  she  has  been  broken  and  ruined  and  stained  beyond  repair.  despite  her  even  tone,  she  wants  to  scream  at  him  now.  stay  out  of  it!  ❝  even  come  at  midnight.  not  in  the  morning.  ❞  if  he  came  at  midnight,  perhaps  he  would  even  .  .  .  

 not  when  you  flinch  every  time  someone  touches  you.  had  she  flinched?  johanna  can’t  remember.  all  she  feels  is  the  dirt  between  her  fingers  and  the  filth  coating  her  torso.  she  tried  to  get  it  off.  she  did.  every  morning,  johanna  tries.  it  never  comes  off.  that’s  why  he  can’t  come  in  the  morning.  but  she  wants  him  to  touch  her.  terribly.    

 ❝  nothing  happened.  ❞  the  childlike  part  of  her  mind  that  still  thrives  there,  despite,  despite,  despite  is  screaming  at  her.  johanna  wants  to  cry.  she  wants  more  badly  than  how  her  birds  want  to  fly.  it  is  a  cruel  comparison.  neither  of  them  know  what  freedom  actually  tastes  like.  she  wants  to  cry  and  for  him  to  hold  her  and  to  pretend  that  she  isn’t  trapped  by  a  stupid  ring  on  her  finger.  ❝  if  you’re  here  with  a  delivery  from  him,  can  you  throw  it  out  the  window  for  me?  ❞

tags; verses

*❈ ‣ nothing there sings not even my lark — ( v. canon )  

*❈ ‣ she’s in there with all these screeching gibbering maniacs — ( v. asylum )  

*❈ ‣ we run away and then all our dreams come true? — ( v. post )  

*❈ ‣ isn’t that her shadow on the wall? — ( v. alternate )  

*❈ ‣ are you discussing or fussing; or simply dreaming? — ( v. modern )  

*❈ ‣ i feared you’d never come — ( v. tba )  

*❈ ‣ if we lay a strong enough foundation we’ll pass it on to you — ( v. single mother )  

*❈ ‣ don’t need a ring for my finger just need a steady hand to hold — ( v. main. feat. heygutlcss )  

*❈ ‣ i’m right here beside you and i’ll stay there — ( v. affair. feat. heygutlcss ) 

*❈ ‣ one thing i can tell you is we got to be free — ( v. feat. honorhearted )

*❈ ‣ the world was my oyster but where was the pearl? — ( v. feat. iocaneimmune )  

*❈ ‣ she's been living in her white-bread world as long as anyone with hot blood can — ( v. hawkins )  

*❈ ‣ yesterday love was such an easy game to play; now i need a place to hide away — ( v. feat. soldwrecked )