@enablcr ( cont. )
jaelle allows dom’s words to soak in, and truthfully she doesn’t even know what to say at first. what do you say to that? there’s no doubt that he’s seen his fair share of shit, his eyes give it away. there’s a storm swelling beneath his skin, and the alcohol can only pacify it for so long. jaelle knows nothing of these tempests, a desert lily who has had the taste of rain but a few times in her life. her legs are hugged to her chest as she shares the bottle of alcohol with the cop, it kills the loneliness for now. ❛ loss sucks, ❜ it’s hardly eloquent, but her statement is true. true enough. the overdose of the third partner of her road trip had left her here. unable to move on from it. she could not bring herself to continue, or to go back. yet here, oddly enough against the tempest of a male she felt… something. no longer completely numb. her head bows for a moment as he hands her the bottle back. the lip of the bottle meets her own full lips as she takes a large swig. it warms her up even as the cool air hits her skin. ❛ i’m prefacing this with me being drunk, ❜ jae laughs a bit, but it’s a hollow laugh as her eyes meet his for a moment, ❛ if the ending’s bad, and you can’t rewrite it? might as well have as much fun as possible before the end, right? …i think that made sense. ❜
he took the bottle from her and lifted it to his lips, letting the BURNING liquid travel down into his stomach; a black hole that just kept on getting bigger to the point that even alcohol no longer had an affect. ‘ yeah, it does. ‘ he let the words fall from his lips as he huffed at the woman’s statement — half AMUSED and half saddened that she knew of it, too. loss did suck, what other way could you put it? you could throw a couple of words around and try to make it sound poetic — BEAUTIFUL even, but either way you looked at it — it just fucking sucked.
he watched her as he passed the bottle back and she took a large swig. he felt a sense of FAMILIARITY in the way she looked at him, like they were seeing something inside each other, something distant but something somewhat of a reflection. it wasn't that he thought they were alike, rather that they found a SADNESS in each other that could be used for common ground. maybe if their eyes hadn't have met and they’d shared that same vacant stare — thoughts alight but eyes dull — maybe they never would have shared this moment together, passing the bottle back and forth between them, hoping for something — a CONNECTION, comfort, or perhaps just a moment of company.
listening to her drunken words ( although, he expected those were the most truthful ) he couldn't help but laugh. it was a HOLLOW laugh, one that could be seen as many things other than humour or happiness, but there was something innocent about the wish to make the best out of life, to make it fun while it lasted, before the big and terrible and final end. growing up he realised that it wasn't actually all together a realistic goal but it was a nice thought. ‘ i guess fun is possible. ‘ he MUMBLED the words, barely audible. words only for their ears, perhaps only his. he cleared his throat and began to speak a little louder, this time making sure she could hear him. ‘ you have big plans then? ‘
