@mocnlighted @moonlightedwrites i don’t know which one to tag dasjdisajdsaijdia but HELLO. enjoy this thing that i was supposed to have posted a week ago. it's not a meme reply, it just came to me so i WROTE IT even though i don't know what i'm doing exactly. thank you. goodnight.
They pop into her mind unbidden more often than they should, the fragments of moments in particular, and if for what felt like an eternity she pushed them into the back of her brain or brushed them aside now she finds herself getting caught up in them, almost indulgingly.
A hand resting on top of hers, her thumb brushing against his skin....
Inside the pocket of her coat, she flexes her hand at the memory.
Someone bumps her shoulder, jerking her away from her thoughts. They speak as they rush by, the remark carrying an unpleasant tone but she doesn’t catch their words, suddenly realising that that she had come to a halt and was in the path of the other passengers.
Stepping inside the carriage and taking a seat, she wonders if she ought to call, at least? Text maybe? What if he wasn’t home?
Her mind is racing but she sits impossibly still. What would she even say? A nervous laugh nearly bubbles from her lips. Is it weird that despite how rapidly her heart is beating she feels an odd sense of calm thinking about it? Almost giddy, even. It makes her feel silly.
She knows what she wants to tell him, but how would she say it? Sometimes not having a plan was better than having on, just let whatever came out come out - let it happen organically. Although maybe that wasn’t the best way to go about it, she did put her foot in her mouth sometimes... but isn’t that just part of it? When you feel so much, at times things don’t come out in the best of most coherent ways.
She ought to call. It wasn’t her intention to say any of the things that had been going through her mind over the phone, but reason tells her to just pick up the phone and ask if it’ll be alright for her to stop by - and after a moment she does. It's impulsive, she just clicks the call button and it rings once, twice-
She hangs up just as promptly as she dialed, gaze landing on the screen announcing the next stop and something begins to gnawn at her.
Getting on her feet, she stands by the doors. Walking is best, even if it’ll take longer. It’ll help her clear her mind.
There's a moment of hesitation as she comes face to face with her destination, something deep in her gut making her feel a little sick, as though the more steps she takes the further she's getting from where she ought to be. Turning around was probably for the best, she hadn't called or texted so there was no way he knew she was stopping by. Well - she had called, but maybe it hadn't even rung, reception's not the best in the tube anyway. She could still do the right thing - or would that be the bad thing? She couldn't tell anymore. Maybe it wouldn't really be one thing or the other, but merely a choice, not a neutral one exactly, but neither bad or good in itself either. Just a choice, and she has made so many not great ones in the past. Maybe she should let some of them go, leave them in the past alongside teenage and young-adulthood angst where it all belongs, but they seem to haunt her - or she seems to haunt herself, by rummaging through past mistakes instead of letting them be.
She tells herself that’s part of the process of trying to be a good person.
“Hey.” The easy smile that spreads across her lips carries an underlying hint of hesitation that Nicole thinks she masks well but that anyone who’s paying close attention would notice. It’s a smile nonetheless though, and she presses on before she can second-guess herself, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. “I needed to see you.” The words come out a little rushed she notices, like she has been gathering up the courage and if she doesn't say them, if she doesn't anchor herself to this place - to him - she'll turn around. She wavers. "I'm sorry, I should have called.”
There's surprise in the way he looks at her, but after a beat he says: “It’s fine.”
Lips meet her cheek briefly and her mind registers the buzzing and hustling of the office for the first time. “Can it wait though? I have -” He’s waving the papers in his hand and she’s nodding, a yes of course on the tip of her tongue but he’s already half-way out the door before she gets the chance to speak.
As she sits on the armchair in the corner, the pocket of her coat buzzes. Her heart skips inside her chest when the name and the text pop up on the screen.
Butt-dial, She types, fingers then hovering above the keyboard for a moment. sorry.
