⚜ we can be ghosts now ;
gmxjinri:
airheaded—jinri’s had the adjective slung at her number of times, a play on her gift and (though she wouldn’t like to admit it) a pretty accurate one to utilise when describing the girl; it’s certainly a word that runs through her thoughts—along with a slew of frustrated expletives— as she searches through her bag for a certain something, embarrassed and panicked. she can’t find it, she can’t find it, the little bound, black moleskine she used for a variety of things, tattered and worn from her varieties of distress.
the brunette heaves a sigh, dark eyes searching the heavens—as if they’d be there, unless she’d… no, no, no—before dropping to her hands; she frowns, stroking a pale thumb against a blushing fingertip—she’d been busy in the last while, leaving her digits to forget the cutting caress of steel strings and grow irate.
steel strings.
she pulls out her phone, searching through her contacts before pressing the device to her cheek; contemplation colours her face as the dialtone continues to hum (this has to be it, it has to be), eyes widening with foolish surprise as she’s presented with a greeting. jinri clears her throat, tongue flicking across her lower lip before she responds, “hi! um, by any chance, did i leave a little notebook behind?”
unknowingly, the fingers of her left hand cross, in sync with the sentiment that can most certainly be heard in her tone—that being, ‘please say yes.’
there is no escaping, finding heat in an essence of encompassing cold. a claustrophobic corner beyond mutant touch, the adolescent cannibal is complied to stand there for what it feels like eons until an occurrence of equinox transition; in other words, a cease of her working hours. however, stating realistically, she has to wait another hour and a half beforehand — ugh. eyes wander around the bleak little shop in utter despondency ( where are all the customers? ), ears react to mindless eighties songs echoing in the background, and fingernails tap along the rhythm. the shop reminds her own living space — across the streets and you'll spot xavier's dormitory. dull exterior, but wild interior. her head is now suffused with thoughts about her monochromatic dorm — how she has the strongest desires to go home and kiss the pillows. how she lays sleeplessly to a ringing phone with jinri's name displayed on it — "ah, her notebook!" she blurts out, completely accidental. as if the air lady had read her mind — the phone beside tyche instantly vibrates a minute after her out of the blue exclamation. "i guess you did, kept it under my bed for safety. anyway, i have work at the moment — i think my boss doesn't mind me leaving earlier than expected, so maybe we can meet up at my dorm. sounds good?" she offers, quietly in assurance to calm dark waters.