who: jamie zaal & catalina garcia @cfhiraeth when: 5:30pm, 11/27. where: the holiday market, main street.
LITTLE ODD JOBS had gotten him through between the incident at wonderland and now. it wasn’t always messy, sometimes it was just being nosy. (i have a very particular set of skills ... he always liked that movie, if only because that part was truth.) but time was passing in lancaster and jamie was coming to accept that his time here would be more than less. work he could handle ---all the nitty gritty details and the violence that preceded it ... it was this shit that made his stomach turn. 40 years on this planet and one true fact haunted every single one of his footsteps, left like fire in their wake: he fucking hated christmas.
there were small little tidbits that made it manageable, sure: the soft glow of twinkling fairy lights against the stark white of a fresh snow and the peace that came with it, soundless and whole; gingerbread cookies, especially fresh out of the oven where they were still warm and their decorated people were gooey; cosy fires and having a nice drink around them ... spending time with the people you loved. everything else was shit. especially the screaming kids, spoiled and expectant, regardless of threats of if you don’t behave you won’t get. they always got, they just didn’t deserve.
it was the little creatures running around now, begging for animals in the petting zoo to come to their hands and nibble on a treat. one of his own were occupied with a warm drink ---a hot toddy to be exact, acquired from one of the vendors as he strolled his way through the ever-darkening market. the other was extended outward, fingers grazed by the nose of a particularly friendly donkey. he had no goodies to share, but animals loved him enough to flock. and when the donkey lost interest so did jamie ---onto the next thing.
the unmistakable splash of hair was enough to catch his attention as he moved through the crowd. as the sun dimmed beyond the horizon line more people came ---likely to watch the tree lighting or something, and he had no intention of staying. he just wanted to look. look at her: she slope of her nose, the length of her neck, the curve of her lips as she spoke to whomever about whatever, the light in her eyes. he’d known she was here, caught on two weeks into his venture here but steered clear (neither of them needed that mess, did they)? he didn’t bother to look if the ring still sparkled on the right finger (his did) and fully intended on turning into the crowd and disappearing with them as they shuffled past to the vendor stalls.
but they locked eyes. and his heart froze for a long moment, skipping a beat, then two, and jamie knew he couldn’t just become a ghost again.