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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
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A single nod.

That was all Bryony could physically muster right now. She had almost been bowled over when Alice had leapt forwards to embrace her, and for a moment, she had just stood there, frozen and numb, still staring down below the bridge, the image of the scene in front of her stuck front and centre in her mind. But then, slowly, she wrapped her arms around her best friend, some element of safety returning to her.

She gave her nod. She sniffed.

Then she pulled herself close to Alice, squeezing her tight, and burying her face into her shoulder. She could feel her glasses pushed up her face, her tears soaking into Alice’s clothes. She knew there was nothing left for her or Alice or Sandra here, she knew the only sensible thing to do would be to move on. But she just wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped up in Alice’s arms, safe and hidden away from everything that was happening around her.

Nadia left at some point. Bryony heard her muffled statements and desperately, desperately wanted to hate her. Tactically, it made sense, she knew that. It would be a waste of supplies otherwise. It was smart. But it was so, so callous and uncaring. Bridgette had died mere minutes ago, and Nadia was disrespectful enough to steal her stuff. Maybe it didn’t help that it all felt so… familiar. Someone stealing a dead girl’s belongings. How very close she had come to being that girl as well.

But she couldn’t feel hatred. Not just yet. She couldn’t feel anything yet.

She could feel the water lapping around her ankles, the waves soaking into her skin, threatening to pull her under.

Slowly, Bryony moved away from Alice. She rubbed her eyes, and fresh tears sprung up as soon as she moved her hands away. She couldn’t look at Bridgette. She felt like she should. She felt like it would be disrespectful not to take one last look at her. But she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t find it in herself to do it. Did that make her an awful person?

The answer was almost certainly ‘no’. Deep down, she did know that. It was so, so hard to actually convince herself of that, though.

“We… we, um, should go…” Bryony mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

She looked at Alice, then looked at Sandra. Her two best friends. The two people she wanted to see more than anything else in the world. The faintest hint of a smile drifted onto her face.

“I’m… I’m so happy… I’m so happy I found you again…”

((Bryony Adams continued in A Moth of Peace))
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