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Post by Red Irish Dragon on May 17, 2015 2:36:49 GMT
For a moment, with the panicked crowd Jesse lost sight of Amelia, jumping up every few steps to try and relocate her. “Amelia!” He found her again a second before she crashed into him, stepping back several fast paces to regain his balance. “Am-“ he began to ask before she began to speak, frantic in her words and speed.
The words sounded… painfully familiar. Men who wielded guns so casually were usually the sort that were exceptionally dangerous. Firing in a public space meant a very casual wielder.
Jesse looked around them as Amelia led him, following only after a momentary hesitation. Just enough time to connect what she was saying to what was going on, grabbing her hand firmly as he kept his eyes open for anyone approaching them, but unsure what he was looking for. When he was the one on the run, he knew what he was running from. All he knew was that Amelia was in trouble, but he wouldn’t even assume he had any idea of what kind of trouble.
(Jesse as willing to help but with just a little touch of doubt :) )
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 7, 2015 0:25:34 GMT
((I changed Amelia’s powers btw... bwuhahaha!))
Thankfully, Jesse did not need much encouragement. Now they were pounding towards his truck. She did not waste time in turning back to see if they were following. Every second counted. As soon as Jesse unlocked the vehicle they both dived in, and only when she slammed the door shoot did she look out.
They locked eyes. The man stood somberly, simply watching them. Black, thin-framed glasses framed his ice-cold eyes. His unmoving figure was unsettling, even more so than the fact that the armed men were nowhere to be seen. She turned to Jesse in a panic when they did not move. “Why isn’t it starting?” he had the key in the lock, but the truck was struggling to start, it’s engine sputtering for a while before stopping, and falling utterly silent. Before he could reply, she glanced at the key slot, and suddenly the truck hummed with life. She breathed a sigh of relief, and looked back towards the train station.
The man was gone.
Her stomach seemed to drop to her feet, whilst her heart seemed to jump into her throat. A shot of pain tore at her side. At first she ignored it, straining her neck to look behind them, eyes searching for any sign of the men. But after a while, the pain grew so that it could no longer be disregarded, and she looked down at her side. Oh for god’s sake...
Her side bloomed red, like a rose opening it's crimson petals ponderously. She pressed a hand to her side, exhaling gently, but didn’t say anything to Jesse for the moment. She had been shot. She had been shot! So they no longer wanted to simply recapture her, but kill her? She had pissed them off so much they wanted her dead? Strangely enough considering the situation, she had become immeasurably calm, and everything became clear, if only for a few seconds...
The truck had begun to swim before her eyes before she spoke up. She wasn’t sure that she was going to just be able to just run through this one. “Jesse...” she began, breathless now as another shooting pain ran up her side. “Jesse I need to... say something...” If I pass out, don’t listen to a word they tell you. I know it sounds crazy, but please believe me. Whatever you do, don’t take me to the hospital, they’ll find me there...
***
“Get me the idiot who fired the gun.”
They’d had to exit the scene almost as soon as they had arrived, thanks to one trigger-happy imbecile. They’d had to temporarily abandon the chase. And now not only was his subject likely injured, the police would soon be nipping at their heels.
The perpetrator to their current situation appeared behind him. He had heard his nervous breathing and soft footsteps as he approached. The man did not turn around. His blue eyes were fixed outside the window, and he overlooked the great city. Where are you hiding? And who was that man? They needed to be quick. The longer she was out there, the more people she involved, and the less tidy the entire operation will be.
“Did you shoot her?”
The silence that followed was thick. The answer was wary.
“I... I think. I’m not sure. I didn’t see...”
A pause. The imposing man sighed- never a good sign.
“I believe there was an order to cease fire and simply seize the subject in our custody, blatantly ignored in this situation. Now, if she dies, I am afraid you will no longer be able to stay with this operation. It is therefore regrettable for me to inform you that if she does indeed die, your position will be terminated without delay.” The threat was thinly veiled, all too apparent to the two of them. The possibly doomed man with the sentence hanging over his head knew that the man was not just referring to his job...
“Yes, sir.”
"Good. Give your wife my regards, will you? And give my birthday wishes to your daughter. Ten now, how time flies! You are excused."
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 8, 2015 17:17:15 GMT
(Ok, posting here so I don't lose the post, but I can edit if necessary ^_^; and btw, nice villain writing :D)
The dogs were excited about Jesse’s running back up with Amelia, but even Cyrus somehow knew better than to jump out to greet them. Jesse let Amelia into her side of the truck while he jumped and half slid across the hood to get to his own door seconds later. He was too busy focused on getting the old truck started to notice the man that Amelia was watching out the window, but the dogs seemed aware as Jesse could hear Daphne’s deep toned growl from the back. “Come on, baby, don’t do this to me!” Jesse growled himself as the engine sputtered, not wanting to turn over and start. As soon as it roared to life he let out a noise that could only be described as triumphant, if panicked, and they raced off.
As they moved out onto the highway, Jesse finally calmed enough to realize his heart had been racing, his breath short from being held so long. Other thoughts finally started to come in, concerns that had had to be pushed aside in favor of simply getting out alive. “Amelia, are you ok? Amelia?” he asked, his own vision dodgy enough that he didn’t want to take his eyes off the road to check her out. She begun to speak, faintly, as he tried to check on her, finally risking the glance over at her. He could see the spot of red, but with his hands on the wheel he couldn’t stop to assess the full damage. “Amelia, are you hurt?! Amelia!” She wasn’t responding anymore, her words fading. “Amelia!”
---
It had been an innocent mistake, taking her to the hospital. Seeing the red had scared him, and he had simply driven to the nearest emergency room. Now, two hours later, he was still waiting for some news other than wait for the doctor. A crazy phone call to his mother had barely explained what little even he knew, but given his past she had been supportive as she took the two dogs home to safety. Now Jesse was quite alone, waiting. Just… waiting. With a million thoughts freely roaming in his mind.
What had she tried to say before passing out? It had sounded so urgent, but he hadn’t heard it. Why was she being shot at in the first place? Who would want to hurt her that badly? What was going on? Who was shooting at her? And how exactly did he expect to help her? Somehow he knew her situation was different to the one he had been in. Nothing was as it seemed, which seemed so innocent on the surface yet had a decidedly wicked core. What was his next step? What could he do?
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 20, 2015 5:00:26 GMT
((Thanks I was inspired by Conspiracy Theory, have you seen it? Great film! The villain in that was played by Patrick Stewart so I imagined him when writing it, haha))
Amelia.
She had a piercing headache behind her eyes. For a moment that’s all she felt.
Amelia.
Then, slowly, a throbbing of pain began in her side. It grew steadily, but then became no more than a dull ache. What was this? What’s going on?
Amelia, wake up.
Her eyelids fluttered. They felt heavy with fatigue. She felt as if she had been running for a long time, and exhausted, had finally collapsed in... where was she?
She opened her eyes, slowly, reluctantly, and bright white light spilled into being, temporarily blinding her. She clenched her eyes closed with a drowsy groan, then tried to open her eyes again, squinting. This time it was not so bad, for a figure had moved before her, blocking the worst of the light with their silhouette.
Sight was returning gradually, but their face was still blurry. She tried to focus, and waited as her eyes adjusted.
When they did, she wished they hadn’t.
If it had been possible to shrink into the bedding further, she would have done, until she melted through the bed, the metal frame, the floor, and finally, into the room downstairs. Instead, there was no escape for her, and there was nothing between them but the retreating fog clouding her vision.
He was talking, but she could barely hear him above the wild, panicked thumping of her heart in her ears.
“…I hope you know that I am very disappointed in you. Trust is a difficult thing to come by, and once broken, very hard, if not impossible to gain back.”
She tried to lift her head, her body, anything! She needed to get up. She needed to get away. But her body was like a heavy weight, an anchor cast in an unforgiving sea. She struggled in its clutches. Sweat beaded on her brow with the effort, her body making little movement.
He leaned a little closer, his piercing blue eyes trapping her in his gaze.
“I will forgive you as a parent forgives a child. A little hesitantly, a little wary of getting their trust broken once again. But I understand now the problem. You were given too much freedom. Your failings only reflect my failings as a guardian.”
He sounded almost sorrowful. She wanted to scream in his face, but no utterances broke free from her mouth. Tongue-tied, she could do nothing but listen.
She felt something cold on her wrist, and heard the snap as the object closed around her.
“We will relocate you soon, but for now, you must rest. Your little shenanigans have caused rather a disturbance at our facility, but do not worry. All disturbances will be apprehended.”
Apprehended. Disturbances. That meant… She felt something sharp pierce her arm. Her eyelids began to grow heavy once more, and her thoughts trailed off into incoherence. He began to fade out of sight.
“All will be as it should be…”
Darkness.
***
BLINDING LIGHT!
She awoke suddenly with a gasp, sitting bolt upright. The room spun. She paused, steadying her breathing. She felt as if she had awoken from a bad dream, but a glance at her wrist, hand-cuffed to the railing of the hospital bed, suggested that it had not been a dream after all…
Calm… She mustn’t allow herself to panic. People who panic get killed. A familiar ache twinged at her side. Or shot at. Thankfully whatever painkillers they were giving her were working wonders, but she knew she needed to figure this out before they wore off... Despite being aware that this particular tactic would be hopeless, she tried the handcuffs anyway. Sure enough, they were too tight to slip out off. She began scouring the room, her mind strangely clear now. Years ago, she recalled that she had seen in movies a hairpin might get her out of this, despite the fact she had no idea how to pick a lock of any kind. But nothing. And nothing in arms reach. She thought she heard footsteps outside. She paused, still as the grave, heart in her mouth and eyes wide as she stared at the door.
They faded away.
She breathed again, and began searching more frantically. There must be something, there must be… She moved over to the side, tugging on her cuffed wrist as she did so.
Creak.
She paused. She looked at her hand. A flare of hope lit in her mind. She placed her other hand on the rail. She shook it. Creak. She ran her fingers along until she felt a groove. There! It slots in…
She set off to work immediately.
***
It was well into the night now, and as such, there were only a few nurses on the ward.
It was quiet, the silence only occasionally punctuated by the creak of a bed as a patient turned over, or a sleepy, incoherent mutter from another. It was gloomy and dark, the only light originating from dim lamps in the hallway, which guided the nurses on their night shift.
Amelia had not been able to find her clothes, so she was still clad in a hospital gown. She suspected they had been taken away to be cleaned, so dirty were they after months on the street. But it didn’t matter. She was free… even if the handcuffs still dangled from her wrist... She was free.
Now she just had to get out of her.
But first…
She would not get far dressed in such a way. Anyone who saw her on the street would be sure to call the hospital immediately. Her first objective was to rectify this situation…
The tapping of shoes on the cold, marble floor. Without a moment’s thought she dived under a bed, and silently watched the nurse pass by, oblivious to her lurking form. Amelia thought it a miracle the woman had not noticed her presence merely by her thundering heart beating in her chest like a caged beast. She crawled back out from under the bed, cringing in pain as her wound reminded her of the urgency. Then she set about again, searching.
***
Amelia liked to think the sleeping girl would have offered her the clothes, if she had known how desperate her situation was. Besides, they were spares, tucked away in the cupboard beside the girl’s bed. There had been quite a few outfits; so Amelia did not feel too bad. The trousers had fitted her perfectly; it was almost too good to be true, whilst the t-shirt was a little loose and unfortunately short-sleeved, not good for the winter-weather outside. But the oversized jacket was a prized find. A further setback was that she had found no shoes that did not pinch her feet or send her tripping over them, so she had to make do with doubling up with socks. On the up side this made her stealthy. On the down, she would struggle outside in the sub-zero temperatures. But she could hardly care at the moment. She would walk across smouldering coals if it meant her freedom. She would have to tackle this problem later.
She found her way to the end of the ward, checking both ways before she carefully crept towards freedom. She would need to go down a few levels, she knew this because she had seen from her window, which had been her first port of call, that she was way too high up to even contemplate the opening as an exit. It was as she stepped out into the waiting room that she finally paused, as if her legs had suddenly become lead once again.
This was something she had not expected to find.
There was a man sleeping on the chairs.
Not just any man, but the man whom had brought her here in the first place.
Jesse.
Around him, within arms reach, were empty cups of coffee. As if he had tried to stay awake, but finally, sleep had prevailed. But why? Why on earth was he here?
She stepped closer, her feet silent. One of the cups was half-full. With a shock that sent ice running through her veins, she noticed steam curling up from the surface.
He had not long ago been awake.
Carefully she stepped back, willing herself into motion. She could not be spotted now! One step, two, three… she became bolder, until finally she bee-lined for the staircase. She paused, but heard no running footsteps in her direction. He had not seen. She could breathe. She glanced round the corner to see his sleeping form unmoved.
Then she descended the stairs.
She lasted on the outside for another two days.
And then came the most challenging night of her life.
***
She had underestimated the cold. Maybe even the oversized shoes, which would have been a hefty risk had she needed to make a quick getaway, would have been a gamble worth taking. Snow had settled outside in thick drifts, and the relentless wind welcomed her cruelly, sending her hood flying back on numerous occasions, causing her to have to remove her hands from the warmth of her pockets to re-adjust her shelter. Her feet… her feet hardly bared thinking about. She dragged them now as if they were ice blocks- and perhaps they were. The cold was biting, it felt as if her feet were being sliced into with every step as the snow crunched bitterly underfoot.
Finally, she came to rest under a rusted stairway between two houses, folding in on herself in a desperate bid to drive away the cold. This was far worse than any night she had experienced so far. Even worse than the very night she had first trespassed upon Jesses’s home in a desperate bid for shelter. Violent shudders racked her frame as relentlessly as the wind, and her teeth shattered continually, making her jaw ache and only adding to the list of problems that ailed her. Through all this, the wound in her side screamed for attention with every pained movement.
She knew what she had to do, but she did not know if she had the energy. And what of the danger? She laughed humourlessly to herself, the chuckle lost in the howl of the wind. What is the use of freedom if you are dead? She was kidding herself if she thought she had a choice.
She had not eaten since she had left the hospital. No… since before then. How many days? She couldn’t remember. Thankfully there was no shortage of water with the snow, otherwise she was sure she would have been dead by now.
She pulled herself to a wavering stand, and began to move again. As the weather had not been kind, neither had the people. On the days she had risked to be out in the open, for an hour at a time at most, people were too concerned with getting out of the cold than giving money to a homeless girl. The original plan had been to scrape up money for some more train fare, or something to eat, or… anything really. But she had no money, so she could not escape. Every day she spent in this damn town was another strike taken from her changes of freedom. And she was in no fit state to walk to the next one. And if she was spotted? Running was far out of the question with the state she was in.
So she did the only thing she could think off. She sought out Jesse’s home.
It was a gamble. The hospital staff had seen Jesse come in with her, and… /he/ has seen her get into Jesse’s car. There might be eyes on the house. But surely after a few days the people after her would assume she would not go back... Perhaps they thought she had succeeded in escaping the town, and had move on to investigate. She had to bank on it. She would not survive another night out in the open.
So she hobbled down his street, chanting a mantra to herself in her head./ You must not sleep. No matter how tired you are. You must stay awake. You must keep your handcuffs hidden by your sleeve. You’ll just tell him you simply checked out of the hospital./ Meanwhile, she concentrated on keeping her breathing steady… which was difficult to do with her violently shuddering frame.
She felt exposed as she approached his front door, but she knew from experience that the back door was nailed shut. She paused, and wavered for a moment, unsteady on her feet. One more silent chant, - you must not sleep- and she knocked on the door. It was so weak that even the dogs didn’t seem to hear it. She closed her fist and wearily banged the door with the side of her hand, and this time her thudding was met with a chorus of excitable barking. With the force, she had to steady herself for a moment on the door before she leaned back again, somehow staying upright despite the heavy cocoon of lethargy and pain. She wrapped her arms back round herself, trying to keep what little heat was left as she waited for the familiar face… and prayed for a warm welcome.
After all, why would he have been at the hospital if he didn’t care?
((Quite a time-skip, and quite a lot! Hope you like, am excited to hopefully get this reignited!))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 18, 2016 0:18:26 GMT
It had been a nightmare of a few days.
Despite doing his best to stay awake, the coffee did nothing to help. He was being shaken when he next woke, startled that the nurse was telling him that he couldn’t stay any later. Had he not just been having a conversation with one of the doctors? The man had been understanding of the situation, even offering to get him some coffee. Jesse went to look for Amelia, only to be told there was no record.
It took a while before Jesse realized that taking her to the hospital was a possible mistake. True, he wasn’t good at binding injuries, no matter how many he had dealt with in his own past, but she was always so frightened. Few people act so frightened of someone if they are not in danger of those who are supposed to protect. From this realization, Jesse began to hunt as best he knew; every street, every corner he could find for days. After another unsuccessful day, he was returning home to a full house, and a burdened conscious.
The cold buried his failure deep as he stumbled home, the snow painting every side of him as it blew about. He hadn’t noticed his fingers going numb, only that it became hard to handle the keys as he came to the door. The chorus of barking was more warmth than the house initially gave, happy tongues trying to restore feeling to their beloved owner. Cyrus whined when all he earned was a weary smile, Daphne more knowing as she remained steadfastly by Jesse’s side as he moved inwards, putting a frozen entrée into the microwave. Sitting before the heater, the cold in his chest not fading even as tingling spread across him.
Even after the food beeped its readiness, Jesse remain still, tired and guilt-ridden. What if he hadn’t taken Amelia to the hospital? What if he had gotten to her earlier? What if… what if this was his fault? Cyrus began barking at something, overly excited about any little creak in the old house as always. Jesse only looked up when Daphne’s gruffer bark sounded, a bark rather than a growl. Could… no… no it couldn’t be…
Slowly, Jesse stood and moved towards the front door, hesitating before opening it. He had to brace himself against the cold and wind, but it only lengthened how long it took him to realize what was before him was real. Then a feeling came over him, the tiniest touch of a wry smile as he could now understand something a few friends had done when discovering him on their doorstep.
Wordlessly, he reached out and smothered Amelia in a hug, lasting several long moments before coming back. “Come in,” he said as he pushed the door more open, the front becoming covered in snow.
(Slight control, lemme know per usual :) and weird... This is my first time writing for Jesse since I got MY Jesse… XD)
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 18, 2016 2:42:52 GMT
((oh yeah! Haha weird xD))
She had not expected his reaction. As he drew her towards him, her initial response was to immediately tense, through both confusion and fear of this strange close proximity. But it did not take long for her to melt thankfully into his embrace, whilst not quite reciprocating, welcoming the warmth and the surprising comfort he emitted. She leant on him fully, the support allowing her to temporarily rest her aching body, although her frame still shook with tremors that not even his strong embrace could still. When he let go, she wavered for a moment, before carefully stepping over the threshold and into the house. Warmth buffered her pleasantly. She began to talk, but she was weak, so she could merely utter halting gasps of speech under her breath, punctuated by her shattering teeth. She was shaking so violently her words were incoherent even to herself.
I won't stay long, I just needed a place to warm up, then I'll leave. I'm healed now, they let me go. I'm sorry, this is the last time I'll ask for help. Thank you for trying to help me.
"I di-discharge-ch-charged mys-self." Was all that she managed, out of the thousands of things she had wanted to say, that was all she could muster? She tried again. "I..." But as she tried to take another step forward, her legs finally gave way with the pain, and to her horror, she stumbled into Jesse.
((Bwuhahaha... How we like to make our characters suffer... XD))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 18, 2016 4:22:48 GMT
Jesse tried to piece together what she had said when she collapsed, grabbing for her instinctively. “Amelia?!” he began, unsure what to ask before he made up his mind as to what the problem probably was. With one swift motion, he swung down one arm to lift up beneath her legs, carrying her deeper into the house.
“Let’s get you warmed up,” he said simply, Cyrus bounding ahead while Daphne remained close to Jesse’s side. Setting her on the sofa as if she were glass, he began to pile blankets on her and turned up the heater. “Uh… let me get you something to eat… do you want something to drink? Coffee? Oh wait, water… you need water first, so we don’t burn your insides…” The rambling questions showed his train of thought, wandering as much as his mind was spinning. How to take care of her, how to deal with the situation. He rushed into the kitchen next door, soon coming back with a glass of water. It was a neutral temperature, a safe start for warming up with. Once she had the water, he went back in, and a noisy clattering could be heard as he tried to figure out what to make next. Daphne, as always, remained beside him, and every so often she could be seen avoiding his latest sudden shift with a funny expression. Cyrus, meanwhile, had jumped up on the sofa beside Amelia, trying to bury his nose under the blankets to lick at her hands.
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 20, 2016 2:53:50 GMT
Fear did not even have chance to take hold as he swept her up, any contact from others at all usually resulted in only pain and fear, not... Not this strange sense of security. Her situation was so dire that she accepted help like she never had before. She had no real reason to believe that he could be trusted, no reason to believe that she would be safe in his home as incapacitated as she was... No reason except shreds of evidence, little things that although looked promising when pieced together, she knew did not necessarily equate to a good person. People were more complex than that. She had learnt on the street that when people help out, or exchange a kind gesture... It was never for free.
But she had no choice.
She couldn't even walk anymore, her traitorous legs giving way beneath her! So she accepted the help, unable even to talk at the moment as her teeth continued to shatter uncontrollably. He piled warm sheets onto her, and even Cyrus joined her. His tongue hot on her fingers, she offered him a weak pat on the head. His fur was lovely and warm. He seemed to sense this, staying close. She was propped up slightly, facilitating rest for her aching limbs, but also allowing her to be in a position to drink the water Jesse has given her... Albeit shakily with her unsteady hands. She didn't know why he had chosen to give her water instead of something warm, but she drank it all down anyway, he looked to her as if he knew what he was doing. His words of explanation had been lost because her head buzzed. As feeling came back to her, albeit painfully slowly, her senses returned a mile a minute.
She was so vulnerable! This had been a bad idea. But even as she tried to push herself up, she simply knew it wasn't feasible, so she slumped back down, accepting her fate. Rationality battled with fear. Logic with distrust. She told herself to be calm. Breathe slowly. Try to concentrate on stilling the tremors rather on what she needed to say to him to avoid suspicion... And yet, the conversations swung round and round in her head, as if caught in a raging tempest. She tried to plan for every situation, what if he saw a glimpse of the handcuffs still attached to one wrist, hidden for now in her sleeve? What if he asked her why she had checked out? If she knew whom the gunman had been? Why they were after her? Whether she had spoken to the police and what their next steps were in the investigation they had surely opened? She felt dizzy with the effort to keep from babbling out more incoherence, scattered thoughts from scattered pieces of events that had not even occurred, or had yet to happen.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 23, 2016 18:50:21 GMT
It was fortunate that Jesse’s fears of Amelia’s current state stayed his questions of what had happened. Where had she gone? Why did she leave the hospital without him? Who was the man who had gone after them? After her? What was going on?
… had he done something wrong?
At last the cocoa was ready; Jesse brought it out and offered it gently, more confident that it would not hurt her with its heat. It showed in that his hands were not as shaky as when he had given her the water, the need for action keeping him moving forward instead of floundering. Once she had the mug, he went back in. His own dinner was now hers, watching the microwave intently as he waited. Leaning against the counter, his fingers began to dance, tapping out his edginess and swirling thoughts.
Jesse nearly pounced on the machine as it beeped its readiness, grabbing the food and a utensil before moving into the living room, shooing Cyrus from the plate before handing it to Amelia, taking the mug to give her back both hands. As she moved into the food, his eyes revealed his questions beginning to rise again, the need for answers only barely restrained. How had the people who had helped him managed to give him the necessary breathing room? To not demand answers in order to help rectify the situation? Their self restraint, Jesse imagined, must have been considerable indeed.
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Post by Kelathi on Mar 7, 2016 2:31:44 GMT
She took the cocoa thankfully, her movements stilted as she fought to control the tremors. He had left immediately, and she heard a soft whirring sound originating from the kitchen. In the living room, there were a few long minutes of silence as she gulped down the beverage slowly. The very act of concentrating on the warmth had begun to calm her down, and she felt the tension begin to melt away as her body gradually began to still, and in turn was able to start relaxing. The covers were doing their job well too, heat returning surely, albeit slowly. Her feet still had a while to go, occasionally her leg would tense and a wince would come to her face as her foot cramped with pain. It would take time, but she was sure now that she was going to be all right- she wouldn’t lose them to frostbite, which had been her fear.
It just meant she couldn’t jump up and run. She would have to answer any questions he had and just ride this one out.
By the time Jesse returned, she felt she had her story set. Or at least, that she could play the vague facts relatively convincingly should he ask. She had opened her mouth to speak, but had shut it promptly when he reached for the now empty mug, and replaced it with a plate of food. Surprise had struck her silent, and for a moment, she stared at the plate in her hands as if perplexed as of what to do. She wasn’t even considering if it was safe, in fact, she was so taken aback by the gesture that she hardly believed what she was holding, and it was taking her a moment to process the next course of action.
Her hand shook for a reason different than cold as she picked up the fork. She speared some food, but forgot to blow on it before placing it in her mouth. At once, her eyes lit up in surprise, and she dropped the fork onto the plate, wincing. Not knowing what else to do as the food scolded her tongue, she swallowed quickly, which proved to be a further mistake. She began to cough as her body fought to get rid of the burning perpetrator, and she threw her hand over her mouth, face flushing with embarrassment. Idiot! She had seen the steam, felt the warmth of the plate… why had she not expected it to be hot? It had just been so long since she had had anything like this… “I’m sorry.” Her immediate response was to apologise for the scene she had made, although she purposely avoided Jesse’s eyes as she did so. With the next mouthful, she blew on the food long enough for it to be lukewarm before she placed in in her mouth, lesson learnt. Once the trick was established, she began to shovel the food in unabashedly, as if afraid it may be taken away at any moment.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Apr 12, 2016 3:07:36 GMT
Burning her mouth had nearly gotten Jesse to jump, and the erratic bounce of his fingers revealed his restraint was trying to crack no matter how hard he tried to conceal it. “No reason to apologize,” he replied, a distinctively uncertain edge to the smile he offered. She didn’t even look up as he spoke, focusing on the food as if she hadn’t eaten for a week. Who knew, perhaps she hadn’t.
Despite his own feelings, Jesse maintained control of himself, finally taking to even biting the tip of his tongue to remind himself to keep back. Don’t ask a flood of questions. Don’t crowd her. Like dealing with a wild animal. Let her open up if she felt like it, not because he wanted her to. At this moment, he couldn’t do anything. Knowing that didn’t make it any easier, and the quiet lingered on.
And on.
And on.
“Why didn’t you wait for me?”
It took several long moments for Jesse to even realize he had spoken the question that had swirled the most in his mind. His voice echoed his spinning feelings; confused, concerned… hurt.
Only now did he notice the unanswered question stung, unlike the rest. Why she was on the run? Who was after her? Those were questions he wanted to ask, to try to be helpful. Those he could conceivably go without ever knowing the answer. But she had left him – just left him! After everything that had happened… He knew he had no right to be upset, especially given he knew what it felt like to be the one on the run, but they’d gone to a hospital. At least, when she had left before, she wasn’t injured. As far as he knew, anyway…
Unable to take back the words that had flowed so softly, so easily from his lips, Jesse sat in silence, not sure if he should wait for an answer. For the first time, it was easy to keep silent, the rather personal question more than enough to mull over.
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 4, 2016 14:29:56 GMT
She paused at his words like a startled animal, the food-laden utensil halfway to her mouth. Then, calmly, she lowered it back towards the plate as she mulled over his question. Honestly, she was surprised by the way in which he had spoken… she had expected him to be suspicious of her actions, and to press her about the previous events, but… to ask that? It seemed accusing, almost as if he were insulted, and it had taken her so off-guard that she was unable to quip instantly with a quick lie.
“I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”
And despite it all, I’m still not sure…
She began to eat again, pointedly avoiding his eyes, embarrassed by her honesty. She hoped whatever his next statement would be, it wouldn’t add to her uneasiness. He could not possibly understand why she still did not feel she could trust him after his invaluable help… or… could he? There was something about him that had drawn her back here, after all. It wasn’t just her desperation. For she had been just as desperate in the past, literally shaking on her legs… but she had never sought out help.
And yet she had come to Jesse. She could trust no one, not even the hospital, or the police…
And yet she had come to Jesse.
It was almost as if she felt a kind of… kinship? She felt as if… he might understand her wariness, even if he didn’t truly understand the reason for it. Maybe she was just kidding herself; she must trust him more than she thought. Why else would she be here? But it had been so long since she had extended her trust to anyone, so it confounded her, and left her thoughts reeling as she tried to reason with both her emotions and her instinct.
"I'm sorry I left. I... also didn't want to burden you." She added in a small voice.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 4, 2016 20:01:21 GMT
I wasn’t sure I could trust you.
Now he knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that phrase. Yes, he knew it had to do with trust, he knew what it felt like to feel alone… but it still hurt. He only managed to hide some of his reaction, glancing to the side as well. Jesse closed his eyes for a few moments as Amelia added that last line, still so clearly scared. He finally settled himself back into the couch, not looking at her, but as he began to speak, it was clear he didn’t usually voice these words.
“When I was younger… maybe a few years younger than you, I ended up in a gang. Friends introduced me, and even though we were all a lot younger than them, we were accepted. To stay in the gang, we had to pull our weight. I… I learned how to steal. Hotwire cars. All kinds, depending on what we wanted to sell. We also sold guns, drugs… I don’t know which ones, but… anything we could steal and sell we did. Finally, it… it got to the point where I saw we were hurting people. Actively hurting innocent people. But it was a gang you didn’t leave. So… I ran.”
Jesse took a deep breath, a faint smile on his lips. “Eventually, I got in touch with the cops, and ended up testifying against a few members of the gang. But for a long time, I was just on the run. I was helped by a few people, people who were on the outer edges of that gang. Even if they didn’t agree that I should leave, they helped me. They never ratted me out.” Finally, Jesse glanced over to Amelia, a weary patience having begun to replace the pain he had felt earlier. Reminding himself of his own knee-jerk reaction had given him renewed focus on giving her room. “Even now… I don’t know if I really trust those people.”
Instead of emphasizing the fact that, at least in some ways, he could understand her fears, Jesse stood to go back into the kitchen, the wave of odd calm helping him to realize he was feeling a little hungry himself. Naturally, he didn’t know what she was going through exactly. He’d been shot at before, been on the run. Maybe for different reasons. But he knew what it was like to lose the ability to trust. And maybe Amelia would see that they weren’t quite so different after all.
Even if she never did learn to trust him…
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 5, 2016 0:42:29 GMT
A memory flashed in her mind… the photograph she had found, with a younger Jesse sitting on the wall and other faded figures…
She felt privileged to hear his confession, sensing it was not one he made lightly. Now she understood this strange feeling of kinship, he knew what it was like to be on the run. “It must have been difficult.” Her voice was low, but it did not waver this time. She noticed absently that she had finally stopped shivering, her body warming up, slowly but surely. She was beginning to feel more in control, and now…. Slightly more relaxed in his presence. For the first time, she believed his actions in helping her were genuine. He had no ulterior motive; he was paying back for all those years he had been helped.
And she was thankful for it.
Before she could say anything else, he had left the room.
She glanced at Cyrus, who seemed to give her an equally perplexed look, before jumping up and following Jesse into the other room. She wanted to say something more to Jesse… and the empty plate in her hands gave her a reason to follow him. She unfolded from the layers of blankets, and unsteadily stood up. She took the plate, and walked slowly to the kitchen, feeling better on her feet than she had been. Without a word, she placed it on the counter for him. She paused as if to say something, then appeared to think better of it. She turned away, and as she stepped back into the living room, the room pitched before her…
She managed to grab onto the wall to steady herself… but not before the handcuff that was still attached to her wrist slipped from its hiding place in her sleeve. Her face paled, and she rushed to slip the empty handcuff back, her back was to Jesse, and she was not sure if he had seen.
((Just realised she still has it round her wrist! lol))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 5, 2016 2:06:50 GMT
Amelia’s remark had been met with a slight nod, but he needed the moment anyway. As he closed the door of the freezer, a new entrée in his hand, Amelia and Cyrus came in, the dog obviously hoping to get something new to eat, nevermind the dry kibble that remained abandoned in his dish.
The food was forgotten by both the dog and the human as Amelia suddenly stumbled. Cyrus barked as Jesse rushed over, grabbing her before she could fall. Daphne whined at Jesse as he tried to get a look at Amelia’s face, worried it was a stroke or heart attack or… something. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, not even paying attention to the momentary silver glint.
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