UNKNOWN.
it’s been a year. a year since she died, a year since her parents couldn’t take living in the same h o u s e, a year since she’s had any connection with well ─── anyone.
in the span of twelve months, this woman is the first one to move in, which leads her to believe that she probably doesn’t know.
a sigh fills her hollow chest as she sees the woman s t r u g g l i n g to unpack her things. she feels almost guilty for eavesdropping, but technically, this was HER house first.
something of a humph leaves her lips as she settles on the nearest arm chair; azure hues locked on the other’s movements.
it’s not like she can do much more.
the house is not a home. this is what she cannot forget. nor is she likely to, with a memory so efficacious it's almost ⁽ ˢᶜᵃʳʸ ⁾. still, she muses as velveteen digits heave tome after tome from heavy suitcase, it shan't last long. temporary, fitz had said. only temporary. enamel scrapes supple flesh, flushing roseate lips vermilion as wandering hues study the room before her. her neck prickles with a feeling so familiar it makes her skin BURN, phalanges aching for the grip of weaponry against softened palms, for a defense she can construct with a mind so useless in such endeavors. searching gaze finds nothing-- no watching stranger, no waiting enemy. she is safe here. ( she has forgotten how safe feels. )
there is the flash of sun-ripened gold in the corner of her eye. exactly where you don't want to look, where you never want to look. fingers fumble, grasping the cool handle of her kettle for lack of a better weapon. something like shame flickers within her, fades. c'mon, simmons, what would the doctor do?
