jonahrhodes:
“Doesn’t it always?” He gazed at the sky as if he was very concerned with the weather. There was no way people actually enjoyed talking about it. He wasn’t going to listen to someone talk about it for the sake of politeness; he had much better ways to spend his time. In a moment of kindness, he said, “are you sure? I can leave you alone if you want some space.” Before he’d been hospitalized, Jonah had taken for granted having his own space, having alone time. While at the hospital, he felt like he could never escape the people. If Pris wanted alone time, he didn’t want to be the one to take it from her.
“Downright horrible,” he agreed. “Luckily there are people, such as myself, to show that humanity isn’t completely hopeless,” he teased. “You can’t win. These people don’t realize that the main is inescapable.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Everyone thinks they have the magic cure to society’s troubles, but they’re all wrong.”
“I’m sure,” she responded with ease, quietly, now that the awkwardness have passed, “always happy to be with sensible people.” Her remark was genuine, though she may have let her words pass through her lips still stained with indifference. “I mean while being caught in a terrible crowd exacerbates things, isolation won’t do in times like these either,” she added, and walked up closer to the other hunter. “People such as yourself certainly do bring in some light,” she let out a light chuckle in agreement, which bled into her next words. “Tragic, isn’t it.” Pris paused for a moment before she continued in a tone not so melancholic, but wistfully wishful. “Ideally someone has to be right,” she said, musing, “and once upon a peaceful summer I had hoped that it’d be me.” She felt a soft smile tug at her lips despite herself. “What is going to become of this city… I wonder.”
















