Post by Jasmine Noir on Aug 7, 2018 18:54:19 GMT -4
YOu were the one, that's what I told myself
I don't even know myself, got my back up against a wall
I don't even know myself, got my back up against a wall
Feelings were a complicated matter. She had known this. She had seen it happen so many times, to so many friends. Both the lows and the highs. How happy people were in the embrace of their lovers. And, at the same time, how devastating it could be whenever that was taken away from them.
Tonight, Jaz was feeling exactly that - grief. It was like somebody had died, and it was likely that that wasn't too far from the truth.
She didn't want to go home yet. That place... it felt so welcoming right now. It was like a refuge from everything that was wrong with the world. A safe haven from everything that was messed up with her. It could've been so easy to just go home. To try to sleep and forget that this night ever even happened. To pretend like she hadn't broken the one person who mattered most of all.
But no, she couldn't allow herself the leisure of peace of mind. There was so much... so much she had gotten wrong. So many things she said or hadn't said, so many things that she could've done better. Perhaps then things could've been different. Maybe then Elise wouldn't have looked broken. Maybe then Ryuusei wouldn't have lost the foundation he struggled so much to build from scratch. Maybe then Akio wouldn't have said the words he said to both of them. Maybe then Darren hadn't thrown something at her. Maybe then Maximilian wouldn't have threatened to kill her. And, maybe, just maybe... maybe then she wouldn't have burned Rin's wings.
She was like a star about to go supernova, and Rin was Icarus, too eager to reach her. Too bad that flying too close to the sun meant you would get burned, despite how lonely the singular star in the dark sky was.
A hood over her head, Jasmine walked along the dark alleys of Tokyo lifelessly, ignoring the few people around her giving her cat calls. Her boots clunked against the ground with each heavy step she took, her legs, exposed from wearing nothing but denim short shorts, already feeling a little cold from all the walking, yet the lioness barely registered the discomfort. Rin's heels were still in her hand, a painful reminder of the night at the cafe. Yet, ever still, Jasmine carried them with her, refusing to let go of the guilt that she thought she rightfully deserved.
Somewhere along her way something had caught her eye, making her freeze in her spot. Looking up slowly, glass eyes met a colorful neon. A bar. She snorted humorlessly; what other church could she turn to confess her sins other than a bar?
As she walked past the bouncer, the large man was had been just about to stop the blonde and ask her for her ID when he noticed the borderline morbid expression on her face. Maybe it was pity, maybe it was a sense of understanding, but he let her through. She looked like she needed a drink and she looked like she needed it bad.
Stepping inside, Jasmine wasted no time walking up to the bar and plopping down on a stool, placing the heels and both of her arms on the counter. The girl rubbed her face with both of her hands, an uneasy breath leaving her. The place was practically empty, only a few people here and there sitting around and chatting. A familiar sensation surrounded this place; one that reminded her about her home away from home. New York... how long had it been since she knew how to deal with a problem? Since when did her problems become so seemingly simple yet impossible to handle at the same time? Times were tough back there, but at least she knew what she had to do to survive. Things were so straightforward, so... black and white. You die or you live. Nothing else to it. Now? Now she wasn't so sure anymore. It felt like no matter what she did, she wouldn't come out on top.
"A drink? You look like you could use one, blondie," she heard the bartender calling her, making her cover her mouth with one hand as she averted her eyes and inhaled sharply through her nose.
"Yeah. Jameson. On the rocks. Make it a double, would you?" The male nodded and quickly went to fetch a glass, some ice cubes and a bottle, all while the blonde lioness sunk into her thoughts again, a small yer clearly broken smile on her face. How could things had gotten so wrong?
Tonight, Jaz was feeling exactly that - grief. It was like somebody had died, and it was likely that that wasn't too far from the truth.
She didn't want to go home yet. That place... it felt so welcoming right now. It was like a refuge from everything that was wrong with the world. A safe haven from everything that was messed up with her. It could've been so easy to just go home. To try to sleep and forget that this night ever even happened. To pretend like she hadn't broken the one person who mattered most of all.
But no, she couldn't allow herself the leisure of peace of mind. There was so much... so much she had gotten wrong. So many things she said or hadn't said, so many things that she could've done better. Perhaps then things could've been different. Maybe then Elise wouldn't have looked broken. Maybe then Ryuusei wouldn't have lost the foundation he struggled so much to build from scratch. Maybe then Akio wouldn't have said the words he said to both of them. Maybe then Darren hadn't thrown something at her. Maybe then Maximilian wouldn't have threatened to kill her. And, maybe, just maybe... maybe then she wouldn't have burned Rin's wings.
She was like a star about to go supernova, and Rin was Icarus, too eager to reach her. Too bad that flying too close to the sun meant you would get burned, despite how lonely the singular star in the dark sky was.
A hood over her head, Jasmine walked along the dark alleys of Tokyo lifelessly, ignoring the few people around her giving her cat calls. Her boots clunked against the ground with each heavy step she took, her legs, exposed from wearing nothing but denim short shorts, already feeling a little cold from all the walking, yet the lioness barely registered the discomfort. Rin's heels were still in her hand, a painful reminder of the night at the cafe. Yet, ever still, Jasmine carried them with her, refusing to let go of the guilt that she thought she rightfully deserved.
Somewhere along her way something had caught her eye, making her freeze in her spot. Looking up slowly, glass eyes met a colorful neon. A bar. She snorted humorlessly; what other church could she turn to confess her sins other than a bar?
As she walked past the bouncer, the large man was had been just about to stop the blonde and ask her for her ID when he noticed the borderline morbid expression on her face. Maybe it was pity, maybe it was a sense of understanding, but he let her through. She looked like she needed a drink and she looked like she needed it bad.
Stepping inside, Jasmine wasted no time walking up to the bar and plopping down on a stool, placing the heels and both of her arms on the counter. The girl rubbed her face with both of her hands, an uneasy breath leaving her. The place was practically empty, only a few people here and there sitting around and chatting. A familiar sensation surrounded this place; one that reminded her about her home away from home. New York... how long had it been since she knew how to deal with a problem? Since when did her problems become so seemingly simple yet impossible to handle at the same time? Times were tough back there, but at least she knew what she had to do to survive. Things were so straightforward, so... black and white. You die or you live. Nothing else to it. Now? Now she wasn't so sure anymore. It felt like no matter what she did, she wouldn't come out on top.
"A drink? You look like you could use one, blondie," she heard the bartender calling her, making her cover her mouth with one hand as she averted her eyes and inhaled sharply through her nose.
"Yeah. Jameson. On the rocks. Make it a double, would you?" The male nodded and quickly went to fetch a glass, some ice cubes and a bottle, all while the blonde lioness sunk into her thoughts again, a small yer clearly broken smile on her face. How could things had gotten so wrong?
wordS: 765 || tags: @aster
template by punki of adoxography