fact: things might have been a different had she not, you know, exploded? or maybe exploded is putting it a smidge too crudely. sheâd like to believe she was a little bit (a little bit! only a little bit!) graceful about everythingâbut she knows the truth. if she did things different back thenâif she sucked up the more turbulent of her emotions and asked a genuine question instead of hurling a scathing accusation, well? maybe things might have been different.
fallacy: she doesnât care. not anymore. itâs in the past after all, and bitnaâs much too focusedâdoggedly, evenâon the future to dwell on the past. heartbreak isnât in her dictionary and if itâs because sheâs forcibly erased it, well! thatâs not her problem. whatâs done is done, whatâs gone is gone, whatâs over is over.Â
fact: closure would be good for her.
fallacy: but she doesnât need it! at least, not today! not tomorrow! not even yesterday! sheâs over it! and the only good a conversation would be in this day and age is if it gave her answers, not so bitna could sleep at night (she sleeps perfectly well, thank you very much!) but maybe so she could finish her manuscript and get it out of her way and off of her shoulders once and for all.Â
fact: her editor thinks a love storyâs wasted if the ending doesnât tie things up with a ribbon. shouldnât the romantic interest and the protagonist make amends? isnât that what a normal love story ought to be?
fallacy: sheâs not ruining this fictitious happy ending for selfish reasons, really. itâs justâitâs just, wellâŠÂ
âi can go alone, right?â she asks groundskeeper lee, eyes bright as she gazes upon the space where she thinks the thestrals ought to be. she doesnât get an answerâat least, not a clear oneâbefore she clambers into the carriage, about to chirp out a cheerful thank you! when she realizes that: 1) she isnât alone, after all, and 2) no no no NO NO!
fallacy: sheâs so remarkably good at the fickle art of evasion that she doesnât have the time to think about people who donât even have to be ghosts to haunt her.Â
instinctively, the second she sees jaeâs face, bitna reaches for a carriage door thatâs already clattered to a close. âwait, hold onââ she starts, desperately, her knuckles rapping against the window to no avail when the carriage starts with a jolt. just barely managing to catch herself, the expression on bitnaâs face darkens and she fixes her gaze on a loose thread in the upholstery. âdonât talk to me.âÂ
fact: a big, fat, stinking lie.Â
any second now, and his party of one will stay as so. there's no hard feelings here, just the tick of the clock until the carriage finally gets a move on for the night. Â expectations have no place here, idle time turning to unspent chump change in the flat of his palm. jae looks out his side window, then leans his head against the sigh against the padding. if his fingers twitching is any sort of indication, just wait for itâthree, two, and there you have it. out comes out the phone, and he caves into habit. Â
a quick back-forth of texts has him second-guessing going forward with this ride at all. no harm in spending the rest of his night elsewhere a little earlier than planned. with half of a mind to do as such, jae turns in his seat, motions in mind to slide out, and then the face that pops through the carriage doors has him go blank.
bitna slides into the seat oh-so-oblivious without so much as a glance and with a word of thanks, and all he can do is stare and stare and stare, stunned silent. the number of people who have seen emotion this vivid across his face sits second to none, the spot held by none other thanâof course.Â
eye meets unsuspecting eye, and all he can manage to think is:Â
halloween is not the holiday of choice for this.Â
like clockwork, she turns to make her escape like sheâs done the hundreds, thousands of times before he can so much as let out a peep, only this time, against all odds, the attempt is thwarted. the door closes with a metal whine, and the carriage groans into motion.Â
as if to follow suit, his line of sight roves deliberately to the space above her head, then back to the defiant tilt of her face. in spite of the sore spot thatâs always lingered, the history that has long ran its course, jaeâs second thought is pretty.Â
against better judgement, his expression relaxes into an easy grin, tease on the tip of his tongue. âiâll talk to your window then.âÂ