12-27-2024, 06:34 PM
[[continued from here]]
It wasn’t far. She was still fixing her earrings when the cab pulled in. Natalie didn’t bother to check the time – after a certain point of lateness she wasn’t sure it even mattered anymore. But light was still spilling softly from the venue's windows, and the music inside thrummed distantly with cheesy wedding whimsy. She paid the driver, waved away assistance and got her own door. Inside her mind was teeming; sometimes she had to pause to remind herself to focus on one thing at a time. Much like the piano she rarely indulged anymore, these quieter moments tested her in a way she wasn’t keen to examine.
She didn't make it so far as the entrance before she found them in the dirt of a winter border, tucked against an external wall like literal fallen soldiers. It was nothing she could have expected, yet there wasn’t much to read in Natalie’s expression or the stillness of her posture as she absorbed the scene. She glanced at Jared, though he was already rising to his feet by then – politeness that might have amused her in any other situation. Instead her inscrutable gaze met his, but she didn’t say anything; didn’t want to have a conversation over Jay’s head, even if he wasn’t aware enough to hear it. Jared was a healer; she knew witnessing this would be wounding. But she didn’t pause to see if he would stay or go.
“Hey,” she finally said, voice soft as she crouched before Jay. She didn’t acknowledge the wrench of his sobs or the way it cleaved her heart, though neither did she look away from the devastation. She’d seen the cracks in Jay before, but where she’d given him room then – aware of the unpredictable churn of his power as the motel’s wallpaper curled and fell like molten rain around them – she didn’t keep any kind of distance now, uncaring of whether he grappled with the fury of his own power or not. Instead she parted his knees enough for her to kneel inside the cage of his legs. The ground was a lot colder than she expected, though it was the only thought she gave to it.
“It’s me,” she told him quietly. “It’s me.” Words that once reached her in an impossible place. She wasn’t sure if he would hear them now, or remember they were his own, but it didn’t matter either way. She leaned for her hand to soothe over his where it clawed at the dirt of the flowerbed. She’d never made Jay any promises, not in words, but when she’d taken his palm outside the decimated Texan school it had etched a devotion into her soul. Or renewed what already existed in her, maybe.
Her fingers laced through his, the act so painfully familiar it made her chest ache. She lifted his hand, pressed it over her heart and sheltered it there with her own. She wasn’t entirely certain her pulse was as steady as she’d like, but her breathing was. Like waves against the shore, the rise and fall was an indomitable vow. One of surety to beckon his focus from that distant darkness. She couldn’t vanquish the demons Jay nursed so closely; no more than he could do the same for her. But he didn’t have to come back to reality. He just had to come back to her. And she’d wait as long as it took.
It wasn’t far. She was still fixing her earrings when the cab pulled in. Natalie didn’t bother to check the time – after a certain point of lateness she wasn’t sure it even mattered anymore. But light was still spilling softly from the venue's windows, and the music inside thrummed distantly with cheesy wedding whimsy. She paid the driver, waved away assistance and got her own door. Inside her mind was teeming; sometimes she had to pause to remind herself to focus on one thing at a time. Much like the piano she rarely indulged anymore, these quieter moments tested her in a way she wasn’t keen to examine.
She didn't make it so far as the entrance before she found them in the dirt of a winter border, tucked against an external wall like literal fallen soldiers. It was nothing she could have expected, yet there wasn’t much to read in Natalie’s expression or the stillness of her posture as she absorbed the scene. She glanced at Jared, though he was already rising to his feet by then – politeness that might have amused her in any other situation. Instead her inscrutable gaze met his, but she didn’t say anything; didn’t want to have a conversation over Jay’s head, even if he wasn’t aware enough to hear it. Jared was a healer; she knew witnessing this would be wounding. But she didn’t pause to see if he would stay or go.
“Hey,” she finally said, voice soft as she crouched before Jay. She didn’t acknowledge the wrench of his sobs or the way it cleaved her heart, though neither did she look away from the devastation. She’d seen the cracks in Jay before, but where she’d given him room then – aware of the unpredictable churn of his power as the motel’s wallpaper curled and fell like molten rain around them – she didn’t keep any kind of distance now, uncaring of whether he grappled with the fury of his own power or not. Instead she parted his knees enough for her to kneel inside the cage of his legs. The ground was a lot colder than she expected, though it was the only thought she gave to it.
“It’s me,” she told him quietly. “It’s me.” Words that once reached her in an impossible place. She wasn’t sure if he would hear them now, or remember they were his own, but it didn’t matter either way. She leaned for her hand to soothe over his where it clawed at the dirt of the flowerbed. She’d never made Jay any promises, not in words, but when she’d taken his palm outside the decimated Texan school it had etched a devotion into her soul. Or renewed what already existed in her, maybe.
Her fingers laced through his, the act so painfully familiar it made her chest ache. She lifted his hand, pressed it over her heart and sheltered it there with her own. She wasn’t entirely certain her pulse was as steady as she’d like, but her breathing was. Like waves against the shore, the rise and fall was an indomitable vow. One of surety to beckon his focus from that distant darkness. She couldn’t vanquish the demons Jay nursed so closely; no more than he could do the same for her. But he didn’t have to come back to reality. He just had to come back to her. And she’d wait as long as it took.