"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Randomness
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Is in some state of existence
[ *  *  * ]
Jordan hesitated, almost stepped back. But somehow, he found himself relenting and the next thing he knew she was crying into his chest.

He didn't know what to do when a girl was crying. Heck, he doubted anyone did. So he stood there, wondering whether to hold her or not.

And maybe he should have. Make her feel safe, or at least safer. He could have done it. But it felt wrong somehow. As if he was betraying some mental image he had of her or something.

How long could they last?

He didn't know how to answer her.

Maybe if he hadn't trying so hard not to think about it, maybe if he weren't so exhausted, maybe if it'd been just a little more, then maybe he'd be the one crying instead. But he wasn't, and she was, and she needed him to help and Jeremy wasn't helping, so he'd have to come up with something by himself.

"We're still alive." he said, voice quiet, unsure that he was telling the truth. "There's gotta be something we can do for now. I mean, we have to try, right?"

But then she asked about Jay.

Her question hung in the air.

A moment passed. Maybe two.

There was a silent battle of instincts in his mind, something that didn't quite resolve into words properly. No and yes simultaneously straining to be said, leaving only the least empathic maybe behind, reluctant to push it's weight onto either choice.

She was still thinking about him. Jealousy, and guilt at that jealousy, and anger at that guilt and god knew what else mixed in.

Jordan didn't want to find him.

He was a killer.

He'd killed Samuel, and who the heck would think that was in self-defense?

He'd left them too.

He'd left Hazel behind to cry like this and him to pick up the pieces.

The absolute last thing he wanted to do right now was to find him.

And yet-

"Yeah." The sentence was little more than a breath.
Edited by Randomness, Feb 5 2017, 10:27 AM.
"I have the heart of a young boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk" -- Stephen King

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