"Not the flu, not the flu. Anything but that damn flu."

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"Not the flu, not the flu. Anything but that damn flu."
Running Against the Wind | Open
The pounding of her feet seemed to match the drumbeat pounding in her ears as she ran; she wasn't sure what she was running away from, especially since she was never the running away kind. This was nothing like her. This was nothing like the woman who lit fires with her mind and let the chaos and madness of the world envelope her. In her neon blue and pink sneakers and hair swept into a ponytail, she looked less like the woman she'd always been and more like a scared little girl running away from monsters. But the monsters were in her head, and she couldn't escape them.
Something was wrong; she could shake this, but something was wrong. She couldn't get the words out of her mind; he'd told her that her anger would destroy her, as if he had any idea what it was like to be burdened with nightmares washed in blood. What right did he have to tell her what to do with her emotions? This was why she hated empaths even more than the mind readers. They knew too much; it was too hard to keep them at a reasonable distance.
She reached into the hip pocket of her yoga pants and changed the music playing in her ear from Florence + the Machine to Stevie Nicks, who sang 'Rhiannon' loud enough to drown out the rest of the world. Her feet never stopped moving, and she paid no attention to where they carried her. It didn't matter so long as it wasn't in the house where her parents had died or the shop her mother loved so much. So she kept running, heart pounding and mind racing; it didn't matter that it was late or that it wasn't safe for a woman to run alone at night, especially a witch. She kept running until something got in her way.
"I haven't been for a run in forever. At least the park was mostly empty when I went out. I also found the last apple in the bowl."
"I swear, I'm not actually back from the dead. I've just been asleep for a while; too many days without sleep may or may not have caught up with me again."
"I think I drank too much liquor for Christmas -- might have to abstain from it for New Years."
Christmas Eve, such a beautiful time
All the shop windows filled with Christmas decorations and watching the children's eyes as they walk past it. There is something magical about all of that.
Hell of a Season || Anais/Celeste
4 o'clock. I was past four in the evening and not a single person had walked through the doors of Jinx yet. Anais had come in early to help the other employees set up the tables and other nefarious tasks, but apparently tonight wouldn't be as busy as they anticipated. "Well, fuck," Anais muttered under her breath as she tapped the side of her clipboard against the podium she always stood at. It was too bad she was working already, otherwise she'd order a drink for herself.
But alcohol and fire don't mesh well, do they? It blows up, doesn't it? a little voice sneered. You're the reason I drink in the first place, she shot back.
Not having any work to do didn't mean she couldn't spend the whole night arguing with her own thoughts. That was practically a given though, how else would she pass the time? The familiar ding of someone entering the bar snapped Anais out of her thoughts. A smile was plastered on almost as a reflex, her back immediately straightening and her voice coming out in a cheerful tone that could outshine the sun.
"Hello there, how are we tonight?"
The two women who entered shrugged dismissively and walked right past her, making their way to the empty bar and loudly ordering themselves some weird drink that had come with the new menu. "Well, o-fucking-kay then," she muttered to herself, fingering the leather covers of the menus pinned under her elbow. It was going to be a long night.
"Would someone like to explain to me why the carolers were practically stalking the shop this morning? As if we got three groups, and I'm pretty sure one of them was doing it on a dare. I am so not in the mood to hear Jingle Bells or Winter Wonderland fifty times."