Stephanie: still was struggling to be on her own now that Luke was gone for the foreseeable future. She had been dating Luke for all of high school so she had spent most of her critical developmental years with the boy which caused her to feel like being his girlfriend was one of the main parts of who she was as a person. But Luke was gone now and Stephanie knew she needed to move on and branch out. Not only personally and romantically but she also needed to relearn how to make friends. So when Jonah mentioned needing help writing some music and asked if she wanted to help she jumped at the opportunity. Stephanie climbed out of her car and adjusted her messenger bag’s strap as she walked up the pathway to Jonah’s house. She knocked lightly on the door and hoped that the boy had heard her knock as she stood with nervous butterflies in her stomach.
Ft: Jonah Haak & Esme Song
Description: After an accidental run-in at Jonah’s place of work, he and Esme discuss why they’re both staying on campus over Thanksgiving break, leading to their own familiar version of a holiday celebration.
Date: Thanksgiving.
Location: The school bookstore.
TW: Brief mention of self harm, mature content.
Esme It wasn't unusual for Esme for wake to find herself alone in the dorm she shared with Goldi. The girls weren't particularly fond of one another, that much was no secret, but with Esme's increasingly worrisome behavior, Goldi couldn't stand too much of her at once. At this point, Esme was used to Goldi staying in a friend's dorm when her pacing became too frantic or her nightlight was too bright, but a few moments into waking, she realized that Goldi's absence was for another reason today. Stretching out, Esme turned on her side, reaching for her phone to assure herself that today was indeed Thanksgiving. Groaning softly, she sat up, unsure of how to spend her free day but knowing that it would be best begun with a dose of caffeine. Jonah being as family-oriented as she knew him to be, she didn't see there being any risk of him manning the bookstore, instead expecting a faculty member in his place. Dressing for the day, she made the short trek towards the shop, walking up to be immediately met with the exact face she had set out to avoid. She was caught in the headlights now as she met Jonah's eyes, too late to make an exit as she was seen. "Oh, I thought- never mind, bye," she stammered, her eyes dropping away as she took a step back towards the doorway.
Jonah Staying on campus during Thanksgiving break hadn't been Jonah's decision. He would've loved more than anything to have gone home to see his mom, however their expenses just didn't allow it. So he was stuck at school, receiving sympathetic glances from any staff member he happened to pass for still even being there. So instead of spending the holidays with family, here Jonah was, waiting for literally anyone to walk through the coffee shop doors so that he could actually occupy his time with something other than drumming on every surface in front of him. What he wasn’t waiting for, though, was his ex-girlfriend to be the one to do so. "Thought you were going to check the schedule?" he questioned, but his tone was genuine. This was the last place he’d expect to see Esme, especially if he was the one behind the counter. A little voice inside his head was urging him to let her walk away, though he couldn't muster the courage to say it out loud. Just being around the girl put Jonah into some kind of trance; he could never help it. Almost instinctively he began moving behind the counter, preparing a hazelnut macchiato and within a minute he’d written her name on it, sliding it across the counter. “E-s-m-e, not E-s-m-a-y.”
Esme had long since accepted that the campus would be abandoned over the next couple of days, but being alongside Jonah in that desolation wasn't something she'd accounted for. Hearing his inquiry, Esme halted, turning back to the boy with a tiny sheepish grin. "I guess I forgot to get this week's copy," she excused, hanging back as he set to work on the drink. "I didn't think you'd still be here, I just came for-" she trailed, watching as he compiled the drink order she was planning to place. "Thanks," she murmured, accepting the cup. Lingering at the counter for a moment as the steam billowed. "So why are you still here? I thought you'd be the first to escape."
Jonah “Mhm,” Jonah quietly hummed with a nod as he began to clean up the area he’d just made a mess of. His eyes remained on the task at hand, not wanting to look at her just yet. There were a range of emotions he currently held for her, only being reminded of the bad as he looked down at the splint on his fingers. “Believe me, I wanted to,” he scoffed, tossing the damp washcloth onto his side of the counter. “Couldn’t afford to drive there and back, and I definitely couldn’t afford to fly,” Jonah simply shrugged, given that Esme knew of his financial problems. “Why are you here?” the boy finally questioned her, equally perplexed.
Esme eyed Jonah carefully as he flitted around the corner, part of her wondering if he was aiming to distract himself from her presence. She really had planned to make an exit before the drink was in her hands, but suddenly that action seemed much harder. Tracing the lid to her cup, her eyes fell to the drink uncomfortably, not intending to rehash painful restrictions. "Oh, I'm sorry," she muttered, her words sheltered but sincere. Hearing the question turned back around on her, she swallowed, quickly hoisting her walls up with a shrug. "I was encouraged to do what was best for everyone when it comes to my psyche. It seemed pretty pointless to spend a week alone since they'd both be going right back to work after the dinner I'd have to lie my way through. It's better this way," she concluded, staring off to try to convince herself.
Jonah: “It’s not like it’s your fault,” Jonah mumbled, resting the palms of his hands on the cool countertop. Although she had indirectly caused him to miss a few days of work because of his hand, it still hadn’t made much of a difference in the long run. His gaze finally rose to look at Esme as she explained why she’d stayed behind. “Aren’t you just spending a week alone here, though? Instead of alone at your house?” He pressed his brows together, knowing that her situation at home was no better than his own, though for very different reasons. “You’re telling me you’d rather stay on campus and eat shitty Caf food instead of going home and having a big Thanksgiving dinner,” Jonah chuckled at the revelation, shaking his head.
Esme shrugged gently, never in a position to actually comfort Jonah on matters of his family's finances. Admittedly she hadn't always been so understanding in the past, too often cracking jokes she didn't deem as offensive as they really were, but in this scenario she really did feel badly for it hindering his holiday. Glancing down towards the counter, the guilt was only exacerbated by the sight of his wound, still bordering on how to feel about his actions. "That kind of says it all that I'd rather be alone here," she countered lowly, still fidgeting with the cup in her hand. She shrugged again, the ghost of a smile tracing the lines of her lips at the sound of Jonah's laugh, even if it was at her expense. "It's never about the food, I can find food off campus if I suddenly crave bird flesh, but at least here everyone already knows I'm crazy. They've been making up stories for me all year; if I'd gone home I would have had to play along, hope that I pleased them even the smallest bit and then what? Watched movies all day? Play Tennis with myself? It didn't seem worth it to me. Or to my psyche," she enunciated, rolling her eyes at the derogatory choice of words her parents bestowed upon her. "They didn't want me there anyway," she concluded, almost hoping her words were too quiet to be heard.
Jonah: “Oh,” Jonah slowly nodded, understanding why she’d want to be alone versus with her parents for the short time, even if he could never relate. He would’ve given anything to have been able to go home for a week, regardless of the fact that he’d only been at school for a month and a half. “I know you know that they make fake... bird flesh, and your parents probably do too,” he cringed at his own words, shuddering at the so eloquently put description. His mind quickly dropped that subject, however, as she continued on. “Nobody here thinks you’re crazy,” Jonah then assured her, despite knowing if that were actually true or not. “I mean, I do but that’s because we dated, and I know what you’re like when you first wake up.” A small smirk played on his lips at the comment, hoping she wouldn’t take it too offensively. “I don’t know, maybe. It would’ve gotten you away from me and the pictures you still have of me,” he lightly shrugged once again, all the while giving her a knowing look. His face fell at the last bit that left her mouth; Esme’s parental neglect wasn’t news to him, but it never hurt him any less to hear it. “Have you ever told your parents how much they suck?”
Esme was never particularly comfortable discussing the sordid matters of her home life, but for whatever reason it was still so simple to open up to Jonah about them. It had been so long since she'd been able to get anything off of her chest, it felt good to get to express anything for once. Smirking at his suggestion, Esme shook her head softly. "Do you really think they cook anything themselves? The look I'd get for even asking would be enough to send me straight back to school," she joked, casting off the idea. She shrugged again at his assurance, not entirely convinced that her reputation didn't precede her when it came to her wavering stability, but it was a nice notion that he didn't think she was entirely off the deep end. Smiling at his continuation, she uttered a teasing "likewise", somehow unbothered by his brief rehash. Her face dropped, instantly mortified by the photos he spoke of, not knowing that he'd seen until now. "To be fair, I didn't know you were still here. And... whatever, I look good in those pictures, don't flatter yourself," she huffed, turning her face upwards in a half-mocking fashion to hide how embarrassed she truly was. Casting an incredulous look his way, she snorted a soft laugh, lacking humor. "They'd probably have me committed if I tried, and they've already talked about that, so I don't really want to risk it. We don't all have perfect, understanding mothers, you know," she concluded pointedly.
Jonah instinctively rolled his eyes at her comments, something he felt like he hadn’t done in forever, only because their conversations hadn’t been this lighthearted since before the breakup. “Just because I was unprepared for half of them doesn’t mean I don’t look good either,” he was quick to counter, momentarily pursing his mouth together to hide the smile that was pulling at his lips. His brow rose, not knowing whether or not to believe that her parents would actually do such a thing, considering Esme’s love for exaggeration. “Yeah, she’s pretty great. I’m sorry you never got to actually meet her.” A soft sigh escaped him, recalling how excited he’d been for the two to meet before his mom refused to have anything to do with her after finding out the truth about their relationship. Pulling his hands from the counter, Jonah began to stroll behind it, contemplating his next move before ultimately deciding. “Are you hungry? I mean we don’t have tofurkey or anything here,” he paused, not being able to help laughing before continuing, “But we have some stuff I know you can eat.”
Esme didn't realize the ease of the interaction until it was Jonah mimicking the same gestures he would during their relationship, and even then Esme knew better than to make note of it lest he change his tune and send them right back into the estrangement they'd been limbo in for the last few months. Even a fleeting moment of civility was better than nothing to her. She smirked at his recant, explaining further that "I'm not good at redecorating, it was easier to just leave them up," though she wasn't sure that either of them were left convinced. The mention of the mother Esme botched her chances with was enough to threaten the light mood they'd forged, the girl simply nodding tightly. "Life happens," she offered weakly, clearing her throat to disengage from the topic. Unsure of the origin of Jonah's pacing, the last thing Esme expected was the offer he granted her, her face twisting in distinctive confusion. "If I say yes, you're not going to throw it at me, right?"
Jonah allowed the girl to stick with her excuse, no matter how silly it sounded, knowing that any little comment could set the two off into an argument. His eyes drifted up to her and he returned a solemn nod before looking away with a shameful smile. “Depends. Are you going to knock everything off on the floor so that I can’t eat it?” his words weren’t as harsh as they seemed, his facial expression telling just that. He began gathering some of the different foods that the store sold, sorting them by things she could eat and things he could eat, suddenly grateful for the option of getting free food. It wasn’t an offer he often took, never having the urge to unless he absolutely needed it. “There’s, uh, some fruit cups and veggie wraps. I’m not sure what else you want.”
Esme fought the overwhelming urge to smile, though a small guilty grin won out on her lips. "Nobody said you couldn't have eaten it," she argued, her smile only growing at the excuse. Eyeing him closely as he stockpiled makeshift meals, she ignored the pang in her chest, reminding herself in painful detail that this outing was likely a one-off and not to get her hopes up. Laughing softly as he offered up his findings, she glanced over to the counter in front of her, plucking out a package of chocolate. "Like you don't know me at all," she taunted, waving the bar in front of her face. "So you must have had a really lonely day if you want to spend Thanksgiving with me," she uttered, second guessing the words as soon as they came out in fear that he'd agree with her.
Jonah: “I’m not going to eat floor food,” Jonah jokingly defended himself, feigning shock that she would even suggest he eat something off of the floor. “And I was trying to give you the healthy crap you like,” he grinned with a roll of his eyes, grabbing a bag of chips the best he could. With his snack-filled arms, the boy moved from behind the counter for the first time and towards the bean bags in the coffee shop. “It’s nice having something familiar,” he quietly admitted as he strode past her. After their last encounter, getting along wasn’t something he thought could ever happen again, especially this soon. But he also knew it was better to not question it at the risk of ruining it. Both of their weeks were hard enough as it was - fighting with each other wouldn’t make it any better for either one of them.
Esme shrugged casually, meeting Jonah around side of the counter he was emerging from, stocked up with packaged foods that Esme decided to keep her opinions to herself on. "This is dark chocolate, full of antioxidants," she defended with a grin. "Besides, it's a holiday, aren't you supposed to throw caution to the wind or something?" It took a moment for Esme to really understand the sentiment behind Jonah's brief words, causing her to remain stuck in place for a half second to recover from how unfortunately nice it was to hear. Following his lead, Esme settled her small pile beside the bean bag of Jonah's choosing, waywardly holding her skirt down as she attempted to hunker down into the cushy surface below without making too much of a fool of herself. Settling in before him, she tried not to make it obvious that she was staring in his direction as he struggled to balance the food in his functioning hand. Frowning to herself, Esme waited until he was seated, guiltily meeting his eyes. "Is it broken?" She queried, nodding to the wrapped hand.
Jonah quietly watched Esme as she tried getting into the bean bag. He didn’t want to laugh at the sight but it was hard not to. Making his own body comfortable in the bean bag he’d chosen, his fingers moved to pull apart the bag of chips. As he began shoving the greasy snack into his mouth, he gently shook his head. “Fractured. Might as well have broken it, I can’t play for awhile either way,” he explained, biting down on the inside of his cheek. As impossible as it was he tried to distract himself from that sole fact, though his music is what Jonah had spent most of his time on. “Your door -- uh, did that get taken care of? Is your roommate mad?” he then asked, raising a brow out of genuine curiosity.
Esme struggled to focus on Jonah's words, too distracted by the food sources that she'd immediately be commenting on were they still together. For now, she simply grimaced between his bites, aimlessly unwrapping her own slightly less processed tokens and hearing him out. "Oh..." she breathed, trying not to let as much guilt seep onto her face as she was feeling. The action was Jonah's own choice, but she knew deep down that she'd pushed him to that point of purpose, and now in a clearer state of mind she could find blame in her part of things. "Maybe you can teach yourself to be ambidextrous," she offered, casting a gentle smile his way in hopes of lightening the mood. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure that's part of the reason they brought up the whole psyche thing, they didn't want me punching their doors," she smirked, taking a tentative bite of the wrap in her hands. "Goldi is always mad at me for some reason or another, this didn't make much of a difference." Taking another long pause, using the food as an excuse to hesitate, she kept her eyes on her lap before asking "how much more does your mom hate me for this?"
Jonah: “Maybe,” Jonah shrugged, not having given that a thought. He’d been too busy moping that he couldn’t create any new music with a real instrument to explore all of his options. “You didn’t tell them I’m the one who did it?” he quickly questioned, pressing his brows together in confusion. Those words weren’t what he’d expected to hear given her initial reaction to the punch. “She doesn’t know what I actually did... or why I did it,” the boy confessed with a sigh. Telling his mother that he’d fractured his hand - the one thing he needed for school - was bad enough. Telling his mother that he’d fractured his hand because of his ex-girlfriend that he was supposed to be avoiding was a completely different story. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I, um, I got frustrated and it just kind of.. happened, I guess.”
Esme didn't think anything of her silence on the matter when it came to the explanation she had to offer her parents, pausing for a moment to wonder whether it was stupid to tell Jonah as much. "No," she shook her head, fiddling with the partially eaten wrap. "It was a lot easier to say it was me, letting them down is nothing new for me. They're already over it," she shrugged, discarding the sandwich off to the side in lieu of the chocolate by her feet. Hearing that she wasn't the only one keeping secrets was a bit astonishing, Esme truly believing that Jonah would have relished in the chance to drag Esme's name through deeper mud to his parent. "Oh," she drawled, a little confused. The apology felt funny in her ears, like she didn't deserve it, and her mind was telling her that she didn't, but if this gave them the opportunity to air our grievances and actually have one pleasant night together, she wouldn't pass it up for her own insecurities. "It's okay," she returned honestly, turning on her side to face him. "I think we're just always going to be awful, awful people," she teased, propping herself up on a shoulder and smiling towards him.
Jonah was still confused by the notion, but ultimately grateful though he wasn’t sure that it really mattered if her parents knew who had truly caused the damage to the door. It hadn’t seemed like they cared either way, which was good for the two teenagers. “I don’t wanna believe that,” he shook his head, even if Esme had been joking. “I think we’re just people who got caught up in bad things and made bad decisions,” Jonah went on to explain, not really having a clue where he was going with it. His statement rang true to the both of them, even if Esme had been doing worse than him before he’d met the girl. “Doesn’t make us awful people, though. Or at least I hope it doesn’t.”
Esme let the door situation die out, somehow taking it to be a concede of sorts. It crossed her mind to lay blame on Jonah for the door, what little shred of revenge she could get from him, but there was no promise that her parents wouldn't have blamed her either way, and in the back of her mind she knew it wouldn't make her feel any better about things. She hadn't meant to shift the conversation so seriously, but there was no going back now; Jonah's face told that much. "You said that in past tense like you're not the only one making good decisions now," she voiced softly, smiling softly to try to convince herself that she was okay with such truth. Turning back to lay out on the bean bag, she broke off a brick of chocolate, popping it in her mouth as she was pulled into thought. "You're not an awful person," she decided, her tone steady and sincere. "If anything you're a saint for putting up with me as long as you did," she smirked, swallowing her own piece before breaking off another and holding it out to his face.
Jonah shrugged at her statement, not wanting to delve further into the discussion. If he admitted that talking to her and seeing her was a bad decision, all hell would break loose and things were going too smoothly for him to deal with that today. Instinctively leaning over closer to her, Jonah took the piece of chocolate between his teeth, his lips lightly brushing against the fingers that were once holding it. He didn’t even have to begin chewing the candy before the bitter taste hit his tongue, causing his face to cringe. “This is disgusting, Esme,” he spoke between his teeth, the piece of chocolate still resting there. Leaning back over to her, he extended his face so that she could take the offering back.
Esme could appreciate the silence on Jonah's part, preventing a drawn out session of admittedly overdue self depreciation. She hadn't thought the action through before extending her arm towards the ex at her side, acting purely on muscle memory from safer days between them, but it was nice to have Jonah reciprocate. The fluttering heart was toxic to Esme, praying to any entity that her face wasn't showing the same heat she felt in her stomach as his lips came in contact with her fingertips, if only for the split second it took her to pull away. Laughing out loud, Esme sat up, planning to retract the demonized candy as soon as he reacted, her movement poorly timed with Jonah's own, incidentally bringing their faces too close for comfort. Struck immobile and a little thoughtless by the proximity, she leaned in the last tiny bit, taking the chocolate between her own teeth, tucking it away in her cheek, but lingering closely for another few seconds. Going for broke, she risked the space, her eyes peering up to his for a second before closing the gap before either of them could protest and pressing her lips against his.
Jonah’s eyes were locked onto Esme as she lessened the distance between the two. He hadn’t expected her to take the piece of chocolate with her own teeth, but something in his mind was telling him that it was okay; that somehow he’d wanted it. He, too, remained close even after she’d taken back the sweet. His body wouldn’t let him move away. As soon as she moved a couple of inches closer his hand had found her neck, gently grasping at the skin to keep her close. Jonah knew he shouldn’t be in this position with his ex-girlfriend for a second time. It wasn’t good for his healing process, nor was the pattern of making up and taking it back good for Esme’s own feelings. But here he was, having no intentions of pulling away from her no matter how wrong the action was. His lips moved with hers, never once missing a beat like they’d been apart for months.
Esme wasn't sure if her heart had been beating as erratically the whole time as it was now, but if she weren't so distracted by the surprisingly fluid embrace unfolding, she'd be concerned for her own health. Her heart pounded in her ears as Jonah returned the kiss, the last thing she expected from the boy but exactly what she wanted most of all. His fingers left burns beneath them as they curled around her neck, her own hand raising to his face to brush the hair away, then staying put on his cheek as she cautiously deepened the kiss between them. Perhaps it was her mind playing tricks, but this particular kiss seemed different from the one in her dorm room a few days before; it wasn't shell shocked and laced with worry this time around and since Jonah himself wasn't the one to initiate the contact, he couldn't take it back. Instead he was kissing her back like he used to, like she missed so violently, and Esme couldn't think of anything that would make her want to stop now.
Jonah's actions seemed as desperate as before, not wanting to let the girl in front of him go. The feeling of kissing her was unexplainably intoxicating to him, his thoughts beginning to blur as it was deepened. Once he realized their location, however, he reluctantly pulled away, unsure if there would be any other occupants to see them - his manager, especially. "I'm uh, I'm supposed to be working," he sheepishly mumbled, his face still hovering hers. That didn't stop him from quickly pecking her lips before fully pulling away, though. He ran his good hand through his hair before he pushed himself up from the bean bag. Taking a quick glance at the front rack of sweets, he moved behind the counter. "Hey, can you help me find s'more of those chocolate bars in the back? We're out," he called out to Esme, disappearing through the stock room door.
Esme didn't have stopping anytime soon on her agenda, her eyes focusing on Jonah's as he pulled away. Prepared for the worst, she swallowed nervously, humming in surprise when a second kiss came her way. "Right," she breathed, the realization not hitting her until he'd mentioned her distraction. "Sorry." Watching as Jonah flitted off, Esme was left confused by the full rack of chocolates he spoke of. "Uh, sure," she muttered to herself, pushing away from her seat to meet him in the back. "I found them. They're up front," she announced, crossing her arms in question.
Jonah: With the short walk away from Esme, Jonah had plenty of time to reassess his decisions and more importantly the actions he took from those decisions. That wasn’t what his brain had focused on; instead, it was focused on his ex-girlfriend and how much he just wanted to continue whatever it was that she’d started. The wait for the stockroom door to swing open seemed excruciatingly long, but when it did and he heard her words, he grinned to himself. “I know,” Jonah nonchalantly nodded, his right brow suggestively rising at her announcement. Without deciding to second guess himself, he moved forward and reached for her waist, pulling her closer to him. “But I’m supposed to be working and there aren’t cameras back here to let my boss know that I’m not,” he then whispered the explanation. His thumbs traced along the fabric of her shirt as he leaned back into her, connecting their lips for a third time.
Esme didn't know what it was that she'd done that caused the snap in Jonah but she was thankful for the mystery. Aimlessly wandering into the stock room, she didn't know what awaited her until she saw the look on Jonah's face, and even then she didn't let herself believe anything good would come off the seclusion. Floored when he made it opposite clear to her, Esme gasped softly against the lips coming towards her own. "This is kind of work," she offered, the words mashed against his mouth as her arms came up around his neck. The thumping heart was just as intense now as her body instinctively pressed closer to his, her kisses hungry, the risk rampant that this could end at any moment.
Jonah: Finding a place to sneak off and fool around wasn’t a new concept for Jonah and Esme. It was when they were no longer together, however. But his guilt and worry had soon dissolved into a feeling of want and need, coming to the conclusion that whatever repercussions came from this would be dealt with when he crossed those bridges. The boy had spent too long of a time away from being this close to someone and he was going to relish in it, no matter the aftermath. “Kind of,” he mumbled in agreement against her lips, tightening the grip his hands had on her tiny waist with each second that passed. One hand moved to her lower back as he pulled her into him as close as possible before carefully sliding underneath her shirt to reach the bare skin.
Esme couldn't bring herself to consider this tryst a mistake, craving it and Jonah far too much for reason to prevail. Dizzy with how right it felt to be this close to the boy she'd been pining over for the last few odd months, Esme let him lead, eagerly following each ministration he presented her with. The tighter he pulled against her tingling skin, the closer she pressed against him, her hands residing behind his head, meandering through the hair there. Breathing a soft laugh at the hand traveling her bare skin, she arched into the tickle, moving her lips to his neck to speak. "I don't like being tickled," she reminded him, her lips purposefully grazing just closely enough over his skin to skim it.
Jonah’s heart rate accelerated and he could feel the thumping throughout his entire body. The excitement of the situation was increasing his adrenaline, something that hadn’t happened in his past few months of solitude. “That’s why I like doing it,” he quietly groaned out, instinctively tilting his head as she made the light contact against his neck. With chills moving down his spine, his fingertips beginning to delicately glide along her warm back, tracing small patterns.
Esme grinned to herself, teeth bared against Jonah's neck as he offered the expanse to her. She didn't waste time, her lips pressing over his pulse point and down to his collar bone. "Well I like doing this," she countered, pressing a longer kiss to the crook of his neck, "so I'll make you a deal and keep it up if you don't tickle me. Sound fair?" Without time to answer, her teeth were out again, tentatively biting over the spot her lips had just left.
Jonah: “Well I like doing you,” Jonah chuckled as he bit down on his lower lip. He slowly closed his eyes as he grew more comfortable standing against the girl, despite his heart still pounding in his chest. He released a breath at the new pressure on his neck, his stomach muscles tightening. “Not fair,” he whispered with a grin, stalling before ultimately halting his finger’s movements. “So not fair.”
Esme snorted a laugh at Jonah's retort, resting her forehead on his neck for a moment to recover from the poor pun. "Noted, but please never use that term again," she plead, meeting his eyes to shoot him a playful smile. Hanging back for a second, her let her eyes wash over the face in front of her, another softer smile appearing, reserved for herself. "Since when have you known me to play fair?" She whispered, swiftly snaking her hand up his shirt to drag her nails along his side.
Jonah let out a larger laugh at Esme’s reaction. The all-too-familiar scenario had relaxed him more than he had been in the past few months, surprisingly so with all things considered. “What about banging you, or taking you?” he questioned, not being able to control the laughter that followed as he looked down at the girl. His expression softened as her voice did and his breath hitched at the touch of her nails. “Never,” Jonah sighed, pushing his body into hers.
Esme didn't think she would ever be finding herself in this reminiscent of a place with Jonah again, but between the laughter and lips, she was happily proven wrong. Her face twisted in amusement once more with the alternatives Jonah chose. "I think I have to be drunk for the first one. Second one's kinda hot," she shrugged. Surprised by the sudden contact, Esme's lips parted to speak, lost for words as his hips pressed into hers. "Teasing me isn't very fair either," she gasped, arching into him.
Jonah felt the corner of his lips turning upward into a smirk. “Well I don’t have any of that here,” he apologized, halfway sarcastic. His smirk only grew once he heard the gasp from Esme and he leaned down to kiss her neck. He began to trail his lips down her neck towards her collarbone, only stopping to speak. “So let’s stop teasing,” he softly blurted out, though he pushed into her once more before continuing, “so I can take you.
Esme was at a serious risk of losing her composure with each touch and word Jonah graced her with. She knew that making note of what he was proposing could cause him to reconsider acting on the urges they shared, and Esme wasn't sure she could handle being shot down this far in. Through staccato breathing, her eyes closed, noting that "I'm not the one doing the teasing." At the second contact, she felt almost delirious, not waiting around before the hand beneath his shirt pulled it the rest of the way up his body to remove it.
Jonah: “Mm, sure you’re not,” Jonah mumbled against her skin, briefly pulling away as he felt the fabric of his shirt being tugged off his torso. He allowed Esme to slip it over his head before taking a quick glance down at his exposed half, inhaling a deep breath. “C’mon,” he whispered, moving his hands to Esme’s bottom to hoist her off of her feet. His steps were careful as he carried the girl over to a couch that he typically used for his naps during break. He gently laid her onto it, moving his body so that he was hovering over her. “You always do the teasing.”
Esme "Not," she breathed, her words hardly audible and less interested in defending herself when better things were on the horizon. Briefly taking in the sight of Jonah's bare skin, Esme grew momentarily distracted until she was pulled from the ground. Her arms found his neck again to steady herself before eagerly settling onto the couch with a guilty grin. "Only when you deserved it," she argued, peering up at him. "I've been pretty compliant so far today."
Jonah’s fingers found the buttons of her blouse, beginning to skillfully undo them one by one. With each inch of the shirt opened, he placed a light kiss on the skin, his lips curling into grin as he did so. His movements stopped as he reached the waistband of her skirt and he looked up at her with a raised brow. Although he had the option of continuing his teasing, he instead opted for moving back up to her face. His hands slowly trailed up her stomach, sliding the fabric of her shirt off as he went up.
Esme watched Jonah's impressively successful attempt to shed her top, shrugging it off of herself once the last button was undone. Casting a similar glance his way, her breath stuck, hoping he hadn't changed her mind but being as equally irked that he was taunting her. Skin already ablaze, Esme swallowed beneath the body, furrowing her brows. "Play nice."
Jonah: “I’m always nice,” Jonah whispered, unbeknownst to him how true those words rang when it came to Esme and himself. “Always... nice...” he slowly repeated, smirking to himself. Not wanting to deal with the frustration of trying to undo her skirt and get rid of it, his hands slipped underneath to push the waistband up to her midriff. His eyes were instinctively drawn to her mostly-exposed lower half, his hands moving down to caress her thighs. “Always nice,” he repeated for a third time, sliding his fingertips up to hook over the waist of her panties.
Esme let her eyes flutter shut, all but overwhelmed by the tone that Jonah's voice was now coming in. She nodded softly, willing to agree with whatever he said if it meant this wouldn't stop, whispering a repeated "nice." Smirking lazily as he gave up on her disrobing, she enjoyed the few moments of eyes washing over her, her fingers working through his dark hair while he gawked. The goosebumps were inevitable, spreading across her skin like wildfire as his palms skimmed beneath the skin. "Mostly nice," she countered, knowing that the smile inching its way up would tell him she was teasing. Impatient, her hips pulled up from the couch, trying to work her way out of the final bottom layer as best she could with Jonah still above her.
Jonah adjusted his body upward to allow Esme to finish what he had started, the grin never leaving his lips. There was a part of him that didn’t want to admit how much he’d missed this. It was the same part of him that he had been trying so desperately to avoid since returning to Degrassi, where Esme could effortlessly take control of his thoughts and actions. Once she’d rid herself of the piece of clothing his hands were back at her thighs, lightly running along the faint scars that remained. “Always,” he whispered as he glanced down at her, relishing in the moment.
Esme was slowly finding a sense of nervousness as things were coming to a head. Things were shaping up to be a heavy reunion, but the fingers grazing over her faded scars somehow added more gravity to the word he left her with. To come this far with Jonah after all of the time and animosity between them was surreal, but she wouldn't take the moment back for anything. Hands aimlessly working away Jonah's own remaining layers, her eyes were peeled to his as he spoke, trying not to lace the air with the sap she was starting to feel. Regardless that Jonah thought she was a hindrance over the summer, there was no denying how easy it was to fall back into place with one another. This was a step in the direction Esme wanted to be with him, and though she kept the hope to herself for what this would mean, it was a palpable want. She repeated his final sentiment, though she didn't entirely mean the word as a mere agreement to Jonah's personality. "Always."
Jennifer needed to work out, it had been a long winter full of days spent staying inside and being completely and utterly lazy. Despite being a total comic book geek at heart, Jenny felt it was her duty to always stay in shape. You never know when the duty called and she would need to be a Ms. Marvel. Lucky for her today was a great day to work out. She managed to find a pretty quiet place on the dock. She decided yoga was the best way to get back into things. She didn’t want to over do it after all.
She shut her eyes trying to clear her mind of all the clutter. School work, actual work, trying to decide on what major she should pick. She tried very hard to clear away all those nasty little thoughts. Focusing on her breath as she bent forward and kicked up her leg. A sharp pain sliced down her ankle and she crumpled onto her mat.
“Ow,” she clutched her foot. But her eyes went wide as she realized what caused the pain. “Oh my god! I am so sorry!” She spoke as she moved to stand. “Are you okay? Did I break something!”
What: Promise and Jonah are given a task together by Andromeda: Map out the surrounding area. So the Mute and the Blind set out together to do just that in a trial of boundaries, trust, and actions will test them both, pushing them to their limits.
When: We'll pretend Dawnie knows and that this right here is the date the task was given and takes course over two or three days? Shhh!
Where: Five kilometres out - south - from the drop ship (approximately).
Triggers: Minor mentions of death, I think? And a lot of angst and feels?
***Disclaimer: This is only part one of a planned three part chatzy. Everything has been headcanoned and is now being written out. The first part (this one), is just setting out on their journey. Stay tuned for part two!***
Promise had no sympathy or pity for Jonah, who was struggling to keep up with her pace. She had a plan and schedule and she wasn't going to let his pride ruin that. /If you would get over yourself and ask for help, you wouldn't be having this problem, would you?/ A airy and staccato huff that was part laugh escaped her throat as she rolled her eyes at him. As he kept - to Promise's opionion - whining and complaining, she was growing fed up with it. /You're blind, not a child! Get over it!/ She was screaming at him in his head, and had she been physically able to speak in that moment, she would have said so. So, to get her point across that she wasn't slowing down - not even for him, who she'd treat as any other - she abruptly turned and stopped dead in her tracks in front of Jonah, with her arms crossed, a large frown written across her face.
Jonah 's pace increased as he could feel the distance between them expanding. God, if he had things his way, he'd be back at the drop ship just chilling out. At least then he wouldn't have to appear like a useless piece of shit to other people. Especially when he was /trying/. But god forbid he ask for help; that was something he simply would not do. Which was why, in the middle of his mantra of, 'Fucking speed it up, you moron,' he failed to hear the abrupt halt of Promise's footsteps. He slammed into her with just enough force to knock them both to the ground. "Ah, fuck!" He spat out the mouthful of dirt he'd acquired from the fall, sitting up beside her. "Sorry." Unlike his previous words, this single expression held genuine feeling to it. Of course, that couldn't possibly last with Jonah. "Should've been watching where I was going, huh?" He brushed off his pants, not that he particularly was affected either way, feeling around for his cane. He'd tried to be a tough guy, folding it up and keeping it in his back pocket to prove he didn't need /any/ assistance. But now, that just meant for a more difficult time finding the shorter length of metal on the ground that surrounded them.
Promise was surprised by the force that Jonah walked into her with, but brushed herself off casually as she stood back up with a dry laugh. /I did that on purpose, Durak./ She smirked down at him, though she really did wish he would hurry it up. She wanted to get moving, but like the first time they met and he needed his cane, she wouldn't help him without a request. She'd give him two minutes before she started intentionally and impatiently tapping her foot. She had no guilt just leaving him there, either. She'd come back in a few hours for him, sure he wouldn't go to far, but she didn't have time for this. Well, they had all the time, really. But to her, she had a plan and wanted to stick to it. So for now, she leaned against a tree, watching Jonah look for his cane. She wanted him to just ask her for help, but if he was anything like her, it would either take a lot of time, or wouldn't happen at all.
Jonah sighed, grappling with rocks, dirt, and grass. Nothing. His cane was nowhere to be found, and he was getting thoroughly pissed about it. "Oh my fucking /god/. Okay, you can't just... Just tap your foot like this is encroaching on /your/ schedule," he snapped. "Deja vu, eh? Freaking fantastic. Thanks for this. You're the best. I find your companionship truly promising." He scoffed, smudging a bit of mud onto his forehead by mistake. "No clues? No hints? Let me guess, you're holding it, right? Let's see how long it takes for the blind kid to figure it out." He was clearly repeating words he'd heard before in a mocking tone, but if asked about it, Jonah would deny all allegations of the sort. "Okay just like... Tap once for 'hot' and twice for 'cold' or like... /something/."
Promise watched patiently as Jonah went through all the steps, listening to words that he spoke with such..bitterness. Words she'd heard before directed at her. But different. 'Let's see how long it takes to get the mute girl to say something.' Teasing that laid off the past couple years, being a bit older. She imagined Jonah's teasings never halted, though. She scoffed at the idea she had picked the cane up to hide it from him. /I don't have time for games, Iona./ Instead, she walked over to the area the cane was in, leaning against another tree.
Jonah bit his lip, temporarily allowing himself to sit back on his heels. "Y'know what? Y'know... fine. Fine, this is a sign that I don't fucking need that cane anyway." His words were pure lies, just a strong front to hide the fact that he was, internally, panicking. "Fuck the cane. Right? Fuck it all. You just... you keep walking, and I'll follow behind you, and it'll be fine." He ran a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. He rose to his feet, turning in the direction he thought they'd been heading in. "Y'know what? I can even freaking /lead/ without that thing. So... let's go." He let out a huff of air before proceeding forwards... only to walk directly into a tree trunk. He stumbled backwards a bit, a small scrape left on his temple. "I meant to do that." He totally didn't, and he wasn't about to admit he needed help either. "I think... y'know, I think it's actually this way." He turned ninety degrees and set off in that direction, only to trip over an assortment of vines that twisted along the forest floor.
Promise was just getting angry now - but still refused to hand him the cane. She only had so much patience, and it continued as he tried to walk away. She shook her head at him, wondering why he thought he was fooling anyone with that damn act. Of course, then he basically fed himself a mouthful of dirt. Looking around, she found a marble sized pebble, which she found to throw in Jonah's direction; and she did. She hit a visible tree root which was about a foot from his head. Picking up hree more, she shook them together, so he'd hear she had more. /You're not getting special treatment, Buddy. I will leave your ass here for a few hours if need be, just like I would anyone else. Get. Over. Yourself. Or whatever's got your nose so far up your ass, you're smelling the last of the shampoo in your hair./ For the fourth time, she leaned against the tree, impatiently shaking rocks in her hand.
Jonah scowled, flinching away from where the rock had hit just above his head. "You're pissed off? Yeah, me, too," he snarked, attempting to ignore the sound of pebbles scuffing together. He couldn't tolerate distractions right now, when he somehow needed to find his cane with no sense of direction. He was about to yell, to holler at her to just /fucking stop the bullshit/, when it finally clicked. Obviously, if Promise was going through so much trouble to make a quiet ruckus, she was trying to summon him. Hell, idiots in the cells used to do that sometimes, when Jonah was let out for some 'communal activity', though their summoning never led to anything nice. It usually ended in bruises, deep gashes, and the occasional fork wound to the throat. Just beneath his jaw, Jonah still sported a few faint rows of dots where the metallic prongs had pierced his skin. He hesitated before standing once more, urging the memories from lock-up to drift away. Promise didn't /seem/ like the type to torment others. Then again, Jonah didn't know most of the people down here by name yet, and he certainly couldn't peg everyone's motivations and intentions. "I'm going to come over there, but if you try anything stupid, I fucking swear..." He trailed off, footsteps slowly leading him in the direction of the clanging pebbles. His expression didn't hold so much animosity towards the world, but rather a hint of apprehension, his steps becoming more tentative as he drew nearer.
Promise smirked in amusement as Jonah finally understood, though it amused her how he reacted when a pebble was thrown his way suddenly, too. As he began making his way to her, the shaking of the pebbles like rolling the dice stopped - she didn't need to make such deliberate noise. She scuffed again slightly with another eye roll as his threat trailed off. /You just try it. I'll give you a nice shiner to go with the dirt on your face./ Instead, the sounds consisted of her picking up one pebble and dropping it into her hand, continuing to be 'casual' about it. She knew he was nervous, so she also slid down the tree and sat down, being a bit louder with the pebbles as she did so, hoping his hearing was good enough to hear the sound move lower to the ground. She knew how nervous he must of been, so sitting would come off as harmless on her part. Well..harmless for now. She saw a nice root stick up in front of him and instantly threw a larger stone onto it to warn him, though she wasn't sure if she had done it on time, and it wouldn't make a difference to her if he face planted. But if he didn't hurry, she was leaving him.
Jonah paused for a moment as he heard Promise move lower to the ground. She must have been... sitting? Great. At least now he knew there was no sneak attack being planned. He was about to step straight into a root when a hollow clack sounded a few inches in front of his raised foot, causing him to lengthen his stride to step over it. He /almost/ said thanks, but stopped himself -- she wouldn't want to hear it, anyway. "Okay, so I hope you're near my cane. Because if you're not, we just wasted so much time," he mumbled, beginning to bend over, skating his palms along the ground's surface. Sure enough, a few steps to the left led him to make contact with a compact metallic stick, and as he ran his thumbs along it, it became increasingly clear that he'd found what he'd been searching for. "Nice. Hell fucking yeah," he beamed, twirling the cane in his hands as he stood up. He unfolded it in one swift motion, tapping it on the ground to gain his bearings. "As a security measure," he explained halfheartedly, in an effort to avoid Promise thinking he was using it because going without had proven far too difficult. (Because it /had/, and the girl knowing that would be humiliating.) "Let's head out."
Promise smiled genuinely at Jonah as he found his cane again, musing over how basically a stick meant life out here for the young man. /Uh-huh. But you're not fooling me, Iona. I don't even think you're fooling yourself, anymore, if you ever were./ Standing up, Promise started off walking again, at the same pace as before. She turned to walk backwards for a bit, studying Jonah for a while. /If you'd just ask one person for help..doesn't matter who, just..one person, Iona. You may find your world opens up so much more..with colour.' Sighing and shaking her head, she turned back around and continued walking, stopping only ten minutes later, feeling they approximately made it five kilometers out. Now they just had to spend the next two or three days creating a five kilometer perimeter map. Stopping, she finished mapping everything down that she could think of. She had been looking in every direction as they had walked, though not really seen anything of consequence. She was hoping to get another five kilometers before setting up camp, but because of their pace - Jonah's fault to Promise - they would have to set up around here. Sighing, she dropped her bag, wanting to get this done before dark, at least. She picked her bag up and tossed it to the young man's feet before walking off in search of a good tree. She hoped that because she left her bag, Jonah would realize she wasn't leaving him or even going far. It took about five minutes of wandering to find a place that was mostly cut off from three sides, leaving only one open and vulnerable. Heading back she grabbed her bag and started walking again, hoping he would follow her once more.
Jonah walked along behind Promise for what seemed like ages, seeing as neither of them spoke. Well... /he/ didn't speak. He pondered striking up a one-sided conversation behind her, but opted against it. When Jonah was left to ramble, sometimes words he never aimed to say were blurted out. Something like, 'It was an accident, Mommy and Daddy, I swear. She was... I was trying to pick her up but then I thought to myself why would having a baby sister help me? So I... She died for us. And I helped.' He had a knack for blurting things out at inconvenient time, and therefore inconveniencing /himself/ because of it. So, his mouth clamped shut, Jonah decided that a quickened stroll would be far less awkward with a bit of humming. 'Hey Jude', The Beatles. His go-to tune for when his thoughts dipped towards unhappy places. When Promise stopped and tossed her bag to the ground, Jonah stood in place, bowing his head slightly. His humming gradually turned into a hushed vocalization of the lyrics, his voice barely resonating past his lips. Anything to fill the silence. Anything to keep him from remembering. His singing stopped abruptly as Promise's footsteps halted near him again, and she hoisted the bag off the ground. The boy coughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. "I, um. Got quiet," was his mumbled excuse. Jonah followed after Promise as she set off again, biting his lip. "So. Assuming you found a place?" As he walked, Jonah was mentally projecting the instrumental of 'Hey Jude' in his mind, blocking out the darkness. 'Hey Jude, don't be afraid...' the volume was blaring within his skull, an imaginary tactic to wash away the bridge that allowed his thoughts to venture where they should never go. "Sweet."
Promise didn't really hear anything Jonah was humming or singing, but she liked what she picked up from it, the random few notes here and there. When she approached him again, she caught more of it, and actually enjoyed it. She wished he'd sing more - and so she could hear. However, she doubted that even if she spoke, he'd comply. Getting to their camp spot, she opened her bag and took out rope before slinging her bag over her back again and walking over to the perfect tree. She figured she'd need to find one that even Jonah could maybe climb..mostly on his own. But if he didn't want to ask for help and sleep on the ground by himself, he was more than welcome. Besides, he'd freeze because if he wasn't going to ask for help to be guided to climb the tree, she doubted he'd ask for help on making a fire to keep him warm. She climbed onto the first branch so flawlessly and without much sound except for her bag ruffling. Then took a small rock and tapped the trunk of the tree from where she was, knowing he'd eventually figure it out.
Jonah bit his lip as they stopped again, most likely in the spot Promise had scouted out. It only took a moment before he heard a hollow tapping, like a rock against wood. Oh, joy... Climbing. That was one thing he hadn't attempted to do since his eyes malfunctioned, and he wasn't too sure he really /wanted/ to try it out now. "Well. I think I might just stay down here, though. Like... Research shows tree trunks make awesome pillows." He didn't want to admit he was petrified; scared of falling, of /trusting/. It would be so easy for Promise to help him up, and let go of his hands. Jonah had never been physically inclined to begin with, so one faulty step or foothold would prescribe his doom. Or, at least some nasty bruising. "Really, I'm good." He managed a slight smile, fingertips drumming against the handle of his cane. "Fantastic, really."
Promise rolled her eyes with an annoyed sigh. /Great. And leave me to wake up to a possibly dead body? I'll probably be blamed./ She climbed up the tree again to the bit of a wedge that was going to be a tight squeeze for them both for sure. /But at least warm?/ Promise tried to convince herself it wasn't going to test every part of who she was to be in the tree all night with him. Of course, if he wanted to freeze his ass off with possible animals lurking out there, that was his own damn choice. Sitting on the lowest branch, watching the light finally start to fade from the sky, she tapped the trunk with the rock more persistently this time, giving him another chance, because if he didn't come now, only way she was moving her ass to help him was if he verbally and bluntly asked.
Jonah toed at the dirt, struggling with the idea of asking Promise for help. It would take so much courage, to ask such a simplistic question -- courage that he highly doubted he even /had/. But he could feel the temperature dropping, and insects began to flock in his direction. The moist forest floor drew them closer, tiny gnats whizzing and buzzing by his ears. He could ask. He could swallow his pride, turn towards the tree, and just ask the freaking question. 'Hey there, Promise, can you give a dude a hand?' It should have been /easy/. He'd had no problem asking for help on the Ark, especially from Mason, or his clique of friends. But now was different. Now, people /expected/ him to ask, /expected/ him to need assistance. He'd rather die with pride than allow their suspicions to be correct. Yet time yielded for no one, not even Jonah, so his decision needed to come quickly. "So. Um." He heard her tapping on the tree again, and he let out a quiet sigh. "Y'know, like... Climbing's not really my thing. So, could you, um... Possibly, like..." /Spit it out, asswipe. Jesus./ "Could you just guide me a little? Like, warn me if there are thorns and shit? And maybe help me get some footing?" His head was tilted downwards, his sneakers kicking at the ground. "Or not, I mean. Either way. I'm cool."
Promise could see him working it out in his head, and gave him time to think it over. It didn't matter to her which option he chose, but he needed to make a decision. When he asked her for her help, a feeling washed over her, but she couldn't place it. She knew how hard it must of been for him to ask that, and honestly, she didn't know if she would of had the courage to ask like he had. Not to mention, when he stopped being a pompass ass, he was actually almost adorable. "Hold out your hand.." She found the soft words actually made it through, and why not? Jonah gave her a sense of comfortability she had never found anywhere else before. Perhaps it was because despite them both being stubborn, and her muted voice and his dulled eyes..they worked. As what, Promise didn't think there'd ever be a name for that, but if he was willing to ask her for help, she could try to make climbing the tree easier for him, opposed if he just said he wanted to be in the tree.
Jonah 's lips fell slightly parted as Promise spoke... actually /spoke/. He wasn't gaping, of course, for that would be the epitome of rude. He couldn't deny that a look of shocked delight probably crossed his features, though. The blind boy's lips pulled into a soft smile, a gentle expression that had become quite the rarity for him. With a click he folded his cane and stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans, the top three inches of the folded metal sticking up, parallel to his back. He couldn't help the closed-lipped smile that lingered on his features as he reached a tentative hand in the direction of Promise's voice. Her /voice/. "And while you're at it, let's have a handshake. Because I don't think we've /properly/ ever met, right? Hey there, I'm Jonah, and I'm an ass." His smile grew slightly, and he almost felt... comfortable. As if, somehow, just by asking one of his forbidden questions, this whole world wasn't trying to kill them. It was a nice feeling, and Jonah didn't want to acknowledge the fact that it was most likely ephemeral at best. "No obligation to reply, by the way. Just... hey."
Promise couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips when Jonah introduced himself as an ass, anymore than Jonah couldn't help looking shocked as she spoke. For all he knew, she was deaf or something. She shook Jonah's hand with a smile and slight shake of her head in amusement. But she didn't say anything again. Instead, she gripped his hand tighter, adjusted herself, and got ready to pull, hoping Jonah the Ass was at least smart enough to find the trunk and climb it with his feet to help get on the branch. Not that she wasn't strong enough to lift him - hell, she could carry him back to camp easily if he got hurt. Before he sat down, Promise jerked forward and into Jonah just slightly, catching the cane that nearly fell from his pocket. She put it in his bag once he settled on the branch, always keeping an eye in case he slipped or fell. Then, she took his bag and climbed up, coming back down thirty seconds later. /You can't climb with your cane and bag, Iona. Sorry, too dangerous./ She tapped the branch with her knuckle, then again closer to Jonah's hand, then gently took it, easily standing up with surprising balance. "Trust me?" She spoke softly again, almost as if she was whispering only to him. He would have to trust her to get him up the tree, keep him from falling all night, and then down the tree. Though, she'd probably piggy back him down. Holding his hand in one of hers, she leaned over, holding a branch above her head with an extended arm, ready to act if he slipped.
Jonah chuckled along, just a bit. It was reserved, cut short, but a laugh nonetheless. He couldn't help it; it was like her laugh was some infectious disease, one that he happened to be most susceptible to. As her fingers slotted around his, Jonah reached out his free hand towards the tree, his palm meeting rough, dry bark. Okay. He could do this. Not alone, but maybe that was... okay. For now, anyway. His feet found their way to the trunk's base after a few failed attempts and stumbles, but he refrained from getting frustrated. Promise's hand in his served as reminder that, yes, shit was crazy, but he wasn't alone. And that feeling was hard to come by, especially when his whole world was dark. Eventually, he found his way onto the branch, moving to perch himself on it. Like hell he'd have the balance to stand on that thing for more than a few seconds. His head turned in Promise's direction as he felt his cane slip out of his pocket. Since there was no clacking from below, he had to assume she'd taken it. The panic he felt being separated from his cane only lasted a few seconds -- she would give it back; she /had/ to... right? He opened his mouth to protest as his bag was taken too, but he figured there'd be no real point to arguing. If there was one thing he'd learned over the course of their trip, it was that Promise didn't like being challenged. And hey, Jonah wouldn't ever admit it out loud, but he probably wouldn't have been able to handle climbing with stuff hanging off of him anyway. "Welcome back," he joked softly as he heard her descend. Jonah noted how she warned him before touching him, giving him time to pull away if he didn't feel comfortable. Usually, people would jerk him around -- on the Ark, in the cells, others used to handle him like some kind of trophy; the kind that needed to be snapped, broken, /molded/. But Promise's touch was gentle, informed. She stood, and such was evident by the slight ascent of his hand. "I..." he trailed off, biting his lip. Conflict surfaced on his features for a moment, his brows knitting in deep thought. He had to consider his options; trust her, or die out here. "Yeah." It was a casual response, but the colloquial term held much more meaning and tenderness than he hoped to convey. He slowly rose to his feet, wobbling only slightly before his grip tightened on her hand. Surprisingly, the gesture allowed him to regain his balance, and whoosh of air escaped his lips as he relaxed. Jonah had never considered it, what it would be like having someone truly /guide/ him. He'd never seen it as an option until now. It was peculiar, knowing there was someone who actually found it within themselves to /care/, to question him in a way that wasn't taunting or smug. After a brief moment of silence, he cleared his throat. "Um... Onward and upward?" he offered with a dry smile, in an effort to break up the sentimentality of the moment. While it was nice, he certainly wasn't ready to succumb to the supposed trust he'd formed for Promise. Not yet.
Promise smiled a bit wider. /Wow. The robot laughs. And he didn't break down. Impressive./ But his laugh was pleasing to her ears; she liked it. While Jonah struggled to get his footing and grip and all around balance while figuring out how to climb, her grip stayed firm and supportive with his hand, hoping it'd help him to at least realize that she wasn't going to let him fall. She let out an airy, amused laugh under her breath as she was welcomed back by the young man, and then rolled her eyes. It was just what she did. She knew first hand about hating to be touched, and understood why Jonah would hate it, too, which was why she gave him the warning, almost asking permission in a silent way. She was shocked at his reply, but nodded to herself and let out a breath. She gently took his other hand and brought it to the branch above them. It was big enough to hold their weight, and small enough to get a good grip. She kept his other hand in her own and slid her foot across the bark so he'd hear it. The toes of her shoe met his and she waited; she was making a path along the branch for him. If he stepped on her foot lightly, she'd remove it, and he could step down. The hardest part was over, anyways and it was just climbing. She'd have to let go of him when she climbed up the branches, but she'd always bring her hand back to his. On her way up the last time to bring Jonah's bag up, she had tried to do so with her eyes closed and nearly fell, even though she had climbed it before. She just wanted to understand and boy did she ever. Nodding, Promise brought Jonah's hand to the branch above and climbed up again, knocking once more on the branches before grabbing his hand. All Jonah had to do was hold on and let her pull him up to her level and they only had to do it once more after that and it was a good sized ditch in the tree. For once person, anyhow. One adult and one kid could get in there comfortably. Needless to say, they wouldn't be cold that night.
Jonah hadn't foreseen climbing to be such smooth sailing. He tentatively followed after Promise, ever so thankful for her efforts to help him along. (Though he'd never admit this, he'd never be able to do this without her.) As they reached the final portion of the ascent, his balance faltered for a fraction of a moment. "Bw-whoa, shit," he hissed, but managed to realign his core and reestablish a sense of stability. It was eye opening, seeing how much he was capable of with a helping hand -- literally. They had a system, and to his shock, it actually /worked/. Soon he was hoisted up to the spot Promise had been aiming for, and he let out a breathy chuckle. "I'm gonna regret this, but... Are we up high? Like, super high?" He paused, fingertips of his free hand tracing along the bark. He could tell their extremely close proximity wasn't Promise trying to be creepy -- they literally had no space in this place. Their sides were plastered together, and Jonah's legs were intertwined with hers once they were sitting. Nice. Physical contact, great. It made his skin crawl, yet he also found it oddly comforting. He'd know if she decided to leave; he'd know she'd be here, next to him. No guessing, no calling out to a supposedly empty space. For tonight, Jonah had the gift of certainty. "Oh, uh. One tap for yes, two for no?" he suggested, demonstrating the system by tapping his forefinger on the back of her hand. Their hands were still intertwined, but Jonah was unsure whether he wanted to let go. Yes, he was on a firm part of the tree, but he'd grown used to the comfort by now. His bearings could be thrown off by the loss of touch.
Promise would never admit it, but she was shocked at how fast they got up that tree together, all things considered. She had /never/ had anyone put that much trust into her before. Aside from maybe the kid, but for some reason, that was different. /This/ was different. And with trust being given to her, to a degree, she put it in Jonah, as well. She realized she'd have to if she wanted any rest at all tonight. He wasn't going to hurt her..something she was repeating a few times, but in general, had a feeling if they didn't trust each other, they wouldn't survive long. Well, Promise would make it, but she'd be alone again..and after that little trust exercise with the young man...she just realized she didn't want that. Chuckling softly, she tapped the back of his hand three times - after all, there were higher trees than they were in, and the one she climbed near the drop ship (that was definitely much harder to climb), was about twice the height there were in now. But the tree ditch was also more than twice this size easily. Then if they countd how high they were in space? Well, it was simply a matter of opinion. Promise did, however, give a small squeeze to his hand, reassuring him that it was okay they were still holding hands and that she wasn't going to let him fall. To further that, she took the milkweed rope from over her shoulder and carefully secured Jonah to the tree with it, giving him room to move, but not much, considering he wouldn't be able to anyways. Promise could at least see, so she figured she'd be fine without it. Hoking their bags above them, she grabbed a tarp and worked fast, considering the day was being lost. The cattail matts had been hung around her hutt, and only the grass matts were needed now, so the tarp she was using over the skeleton wasn't needed there, anymore. So she used it to block two areas - the one the wind was currently blowing in, and the most exposed one to their backs. Sitting down, she took Jonah's hand again, giving another gentle squeeze before getting comfortable and taking advantage of their proximity for body heat. She wouldn't get into a deep sleep if she even did, and if she spoke, maybe she'd tell Jonah about the sunset from where they were. /Kill me now because this is actually..nice../ And her last thought she ws conscious of before diving into other thoughts about survival was simple and referring to their situation and of all the people, how a mute and blind were put together: /Who would've thought../
Brooklyn awoke to cramping. Not just light cramping, but curl up in a ball and sleep cramps, which she really was not used to. They hurt, badly, enough to have woken her up from finally being able to sleep through the night, now that Jonah was in the house. Sitting up, she blinked into the darkness, cringing and letting out a whimper at the pains. Shifting slightly, she froze, feeling her underwear damp, as well as the crotch area of her pants and underneath her. Reaching under the blanket, she touched her pajama pants, feeling warm dampness, and growing confused. Pulling her hand back out, she looked at her finger and saw the faint red stain that was now on her fingers, causing her face to fall, panic setting in. "J-Jonah," she let out, barely above a whisper, before yelling, in almost a wail, "Jonah!"
Brooklyn was shaking as she quietly left her bedroom and made her way downstairs. “Mom?” she called, hearing movement in the kitchen. She walked around the bend and stood in the door of the kitchen awkwardly. She was wearing jeans and an oversized sweater, rubbing her arm gently. “What is it?” her mother asked in a clipped tone, her step-father eyeing her. “Can I… Talk to you for a minute?” she let out. Her mother turned to Edward, concern on her face, while his face stayed stone. “Sure, Brooke,” she let out, her voice clearing showing nerves, “Come sit down.”
Brooklyn did as she was told, walking to the table and joining her mother and step-father there. “What’s on your mind?” Edward asked, his voice clearly guarded, having not trusted her since Christmas. “Uh…” she let out quietly, her eyes on the table as she fiddled, “I, um… I have some news. I… I made another shitty mistake, as I tend to do often in my life…” As she spoke, she saw her step father go on guard very quickly, fearing the worst. She knew whatever he was conjuring up in his mind was probably true, but she wasn’t going to let them know that. Wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that, and not going to put Jonah on the line like that.
"I, um… I’m pregnant," she let out, her eyes staying on the table, "Uh… I was at a party the other week, and… And I got with my ex. It was a one time thing, we knew it at the time, and we were both drunk. But… We were being stupid about it and we… Yeah, we didn’t use a condom. So… Yeah…" She knew she was lying, but she hoped her uneasiness just came off as nerves, nerves of telling her mom this, nerves of telling her step-father this.
There was silence for a few moments, before she could feel her mother blowing up. “How dare you!” her mom screamed, standing up from the table, “It better not have been in this house, bringing that kind if sin home here. You… You little slut! How dare you disgrace this family like this?” Tears were in Brooklyn’s eyes as she stared at the table. “I’m sorry, mom,” she let out, her bottom lip wobbling, “I… I know… I know I’m a disgrace or whatever, I just… Mom, I’m sorry…”
Brooklyn talked on her phone quickly, getting frustrated. "I said I can babysit, but why can't I just come over to your house?" she asked, her voice raising, "Yes, dad, I know, but... How well do you think my mom is going to take this? Right, of course, I'm aware you don't care, have been for years... Nothing, I didn't say anything... Fine, yeah, whatever, but you better have stuff for them because there's not babies or toddlers in this house." She hung up the phone and rushed downstairs, her mother and step father being at work still and will be until later, the first night both of them had been gone since Christmas break. She waited on the couch, growing impatient, until the doorbell rang. She went to the door and answered, speaking with her step mother about the care of her infant and toddler brothers, nodding and taking the play pen and two bags she was given. Shutting the door, she turned around, holding the baby car seat in one hand with Jackson in it, and looking at Noah. "You remember me, right?" Brooklyn asked the boy, causing him to stare, then tilt his head, then shake his head, "I'm your sister, remember? I'm your daddy's biggest girl." She still got a blank stare and sighed. "Alrighty then," she said, walking to the living room and setting everything down, opening one bag and pulling the toys out, then turning the TV on. "Go nuts," she stated as she sat down on the couch, pulling the 2 and a half month old out of his car seat and carefully cradling him.
"I'm going to see Jonah!" Brooklyn called out, walking through the house, before muttering, "Not like you care or anything..." She was being ignored. Her mom didn't want anything to do with get, and her step father was blaming her for everything. She had been planning on just straight out leaving for the weekend, but Jonah had wanted her to visit. She left the house quickly, getting into her car and pulling out of the driveway, driving to the hospital on the other side of town quickly. She pulled into the parking lot and parked, getting out and going to pay for parking. She thought it was stupid you had to pay, that if you wanted to visit someone who was sick, you had to pay to do so. She went into the hospital and quickly found Jonah's floor, asking a nurse who pointed her in the direction. Thanking the nurse, Brooklyn found the room easily, walking in with her arms crossed against her chest, staying close to the door.
