with. – @oflightfeet where. – nana’s home. when. – april 8th, early evening.
Nana’s eyes are sore, the corners of her vision semi-blurred from lack of sleep. In front of her lay a dozen faces, all blown up on sheets of paper for her inspection. The night the texts had supposedly went out, after, and anything in between. She feels as though she’s lived her life with them-- these strangers, these friends. She could create a hundred thousand stories about what they were up to, or what her expectations of them are.
By the time the sun filters through her blinds, Nana’s lost to a presumptuous nature. One that, if she’s not careful, will surely eat her alive. Her conversation with Jessica replays in her head-- the accusation, the promise of commitment, of truth. There is not a part of Nana that feels betrayed by Jessica’s questions, or the fact that she was directed to ask them.
The betrayal she feels is for those who slipped between the cracks, disease hanging from their tongues with secrets meant to kill.
Staring intently at the page before her, there’s an ache in her neck as she snaps her head up in response to one of her warning alarms going off, notifying her of a visitor. Eyebrows furrowed, she quickly side-steps her desk and takes a look at one of the monitors built into the wall, easily hidden by a cabinet door.
Her expression softens slightly at the sight of Wren and she moves quickly to neatly stack the photos into a folder and place them inside of a drawer in her desk. Following the sound of the doorbell, Nana approaches the door and pulls it open, her smile faltering only slightly at the sight of her dear friend.
“Come in,” Nana motions immediately, stepping out of the way. “Wren?” Nana asks, tilting her head to the side as she gets a better look at them. “Are you okay?” Her mind runs rampant with what could possibly be causing him strife and she makes room for them to enter further into the room.