Be Still My Heart

She could still remember his eyes. They were burning coal; they were venomous snakes. She would dream of him at night and wake up feeling his eyes on her. They would not leave her as she turned around and tried to sleep again. His eyes never left her. The piercing stare that looked right through her. The calm eyes that said he knew everything about her. Every little corner of her mind was his, and she had given it to him willingly.

'Be still my heart, be still.'

She could still remember his voice. It surrounded her in her sleep. Her name on his lips was toxic, yet sweet, like poisoned chocolate - too good to leave despite its deadliness. "Ginevra," he would call out in the soft tone she knew so well. Sometimes, she would hear it during the day like a distant memory, but still too close for comfort. "What right do they have to judge you, Ginevra?" he would say, the words mocking her with their comfort. "No one understands you like I do."

'Be still my heart, be still.'

She could still remember his touch. His cool, long fingers brushing red strands of hair away from her eyes. Her stomach churned with disgust and longing mixed into a confusing cocktail at the thought of it. She wanted him and found him repulsive, and her body could not decide which impulse to obey. His touch was so hated and so loved. She could almost feel his hand running down her arm, causing her to shiver. Butterflies trailing circles on her back, connecting the dots between her freckles. Leaving dark bruises on porcelain skin.

'Be still my heart, be still.'

She could still remember his smile. He was a master of manipulation, and his smile would make her feel like he cared about her, as though she was special to him. His smile was home. His smile was summer and meadows full of flowers. And yet his smile was ice and steel and death. His smile was cruelty - it spoke of pain to come and dreams to be broken. His smile was sugar and acid all in one. But his smile was still home.

'Be still my heart, be still.'

She could still remember his words. Those whispered promises spoken to her during her deepest sorrow. Words of comfort, words that healed, words that promised more than she could ever want. Words that took everything she was, that left her stripped and bare. Like a landslide his words came tumbling down on her, overwhelming her with memories. His sweet lies, his seducing evils. Those words that she had given into so easily. She had lost herself in the comfort of them.

'Be still my heart, be still.'

She could still remember his soul. It had infiltrated her every fibre, dark as the night. So dark she could lose herself in it. A soft darkness that spoke of happiness but lied. It had run through her veins, filling her inch by inch. It had surrounded her heart and had pushed around her lungs until she couldn't breathe. It had swirled in her stomach and caressed her skin. And as darkness had embraced her, she had let herself fall.

'Be still my heart, be still.'