imaginary ✩ gordon & orion.
In my field of paper flowers And candy clouds of lullaby, I lie inside myself for hours. And watch my purple sky fly over me.
Orion’s body was tense as she stared straight ahead, legs crossed tightly. The subway was crowded, as usual, and she wondered why she had decided to take it in the first place. In fact, she wanted nothing more than just get off at the nearest stop and take the next one home. She wasn’t in the right mindset to go to work -- the sole reason she was on her way to the hospital was because she’d gotten so numb, she stopped caring about anything.
But here she was, once again hyper aware of the people around her. She felt like everyone was staring at her, judging her, could see through her. The person next to her smelled nice, which was a bit of a relief in this type of crowd, but she didn’t dare to say anything, afraid that once she would speak, all her emotions would start pouring out. And the last thing she wanted was to fall apart completely on a subway train.
The stranger then got up, clearly needing to get off at the next stop. The doors opened, Orion nervously reached out to grab her bag, to make sure no one would trip over it and-- found nothing but air. Her eyes widened as she looked around, quickly locating the bag of the person who had been sitting next to her. Though it looked awfully similar to her own, she could tell that it wasn’t.
But that meant--
Orion nearly fell over as she quickly got up and grabbed the bag, pushing herself through the crowd of people and slipping through the closing doors. The ginger was out of breath for a moment, her heart racing. The station was almost as crowded as the train itself, disorienting her and making it hard for her to find the man who had been sitting next to her -- who had accidentally taken her bag with him.
Panic surged through her while she found herself nearly trampled by a wave of people trying to make it to their train, her fingers holding on tightly to the bag in her hands. Should she see if she could find some sort of identification on or inside of the bag? Maybe just a phone number? “Fudge, fudge, fudge...” She didn’t particularly want to go through someone’s stuff, but there was no way she was going to find someone in this crowd.
She pressed herself against a wall, clumsily unzipping the bag and browsing through the things inside of it. Colorful fabrics, some magic wands. Was this... the luggage of a magician? And then, at last, something resembling business cards. Orion took one of them, quickly closing the bag again and hoisting it up her shoulder while she pulled her phone from her pocket. Thank god, she hadn’t put it in her bag. Her hands trembled as she dialed the number. There was no time to send a text message, so she had to get over her intense discomfort with phone calls.
“Um, hello?”
