( ♞ | Survivor )

      Perhaps it would have been easier had she not awoken at all.  It certainly would have been less painful. She aches, she’s cold, she’s homesick. The voyage had not been one of choice to begin with. Political circumstances had forced Anastasia and her family to relocate, and one thing she knew. She could not go back. It is that thought that bears immense weight on her shoulders as she attempts to process the words that fall from his lips. She barely registers his name, it disappears in the cacophony of noise and static that consumes her upon the final few words he speaks. 

              You were the only survivor we found.

        He was right about one thing. NOTHING could have prepared her for the news. Nothing could have softened the blow. If he had physically struck her, it would have been less painful than the news he bore. His expression, however kind and meant to not mean harm, is futile. He has hurt her in the most painful way. She flinches— recoils from him — as though it’d been his own hands that had killed them. She wants to scream, throw herself into the crashing waves and reunite with the family that had been so cruelly ripped from her grasp. 

        Being a survivor is a damnation all its own. Just hours ago she had been laughing, joking with her sisters, doting on her mother and father. This is cruel. She should have died with  them. The news, not surprisingly, leaves her shell-shocked into silence for a long moment. Anastasia cannot comprehend that she has lost everything— everyone. Her hands tremble, her shoulders quake and tears prick, hot and stinging, at the corners of her eyes. It feels like she’d been punched straight to the gut. Breathing becomes difficult as Anastasia tries to rein in her grief. The blue of her irises reflect like a storm brewing. She will not cry. Not yet. Not with an audience. If she must lose everything else, she will keep her pride.

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                        “I—– I don’t—- I don’t understand. N-None of them survived?” 

Being perceptive was  a skill that Will had been both blessed and
( cursed ) with, eyes catching that which most would like to hide.   As the
weight of his words registered with the woman,      Will noted the emotions 
that began to flit across her face. Disbelief and   sadness,    confusion and 
ANGER,   all things he’d seen before when it came to loss.  Still,  he knew 
he was intruding on a private moment,    that her grief was not meant to be 
put on display. Least of all to the man who had come to  deliver  their souls.

Despite the understanding  Will had for the situation,   a crease
developed between his brows at the way she’d   flinched   away from him.
The action created a small amount of tension in the room,   and Will subtly
took a step back,  giving her as much room as he could.  Though he’d had
no hand in their deaths, he was sure that being the  ( bearer )  of bad news 
was just as bad in the current situation  . How many of those that had been
floating in the water had been her  kin ? What was she left with now?     A
family to return to?  Or  NOTHING  at all?  Those questions swam through
Will’s mind unbidden and unwelcome,  for he feared he may  voice  one of
them if he wasn’t careful. 

The sound of      her   strangled   breathing startled Will back into the 
moment, ( concern ) lining his face as he watched from where he stood. He
took note of the  determination in the line of her shoulders, how despite the
way her eyes glinted with sadness, not a SINGLE tear had been shed. There
was strength in her, but even the strongest would break. Something told
Will that watching this woman  shatter  would be astoundingly painful.    Her 
question  was  expected,  dormant    hope   laying  beneath  the  words  that 
might have been spoken by weaker individuals.  A silent plea for a changed
fate,     for a God to reach down and turn back the hands of ( time ).     But it 
seemed that God was no longer  LISTENING  to the world of men.

        “ None that we saw, Miss. And we were thorough in
          our search, particularly after we found you.” 

Will crossed his  arms,    turning towards a chair he had in the corner
of the room.   He sat on the edge of it,     eyes almost asking permission to 
remain seated.     The last thing he wanted was to startle her,     or to trigger
the TURMOIL she must have been facing in that moment.

       “ Might I know your name? ”

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you ignored the

independent will turner
from pirates of the caribbean

selective & private
oc & crossover friendly

replies will be slow

rules of engagement

written by LEA

est. april 24, 2015

TRACKING:
gameofdeception