a/n: Start to walk.
It was a cold night.
She hugged her knees as she sat on the balcony. Thinking. A pulsing went through her head, ever so slowly.
She let go of her knees and reached into a small pouch on her belt. Pulled out the cigarette and lit it up. A thin line of smoke rose from the burning tip and she exhaled a small cloud. Slumped forward, her back against the wall. Bits of ash falling to the concrete.
Tired eyes made of aquamarine.
Two bodies on top of each other, leaking blood.
She reached for the pistol at her side and dismantled it. Stuffed it in the tool bag on her left hip. Let out another puff of smoke.
The taste of failure.
She wanted to think freely and let things drift away, but it was impossible. The cold night kept jerking her awake, making her ever aware of the broken pieces in front of her.
Maybe even her broken self. Would she ever come together again?
He, ever observant. And then he, ever gullible. Though she had given up on the latter, for his own sake. Even as he slowly started to give chase.
She puffed out another cloud into the formless night. A metallic smell tickled her nose.
Failure. But what did you do at that point?
She hated it far too much. The fear and resentment, not of the outcome but of the self. Knowing you could do better. Be better.
There was always talk of brighter days, but when were they to come? How many times did you have to be driven down before you saw the sun again from that miserable hole in the ground?
She stood up and promptly slumped over the balcony railing, exhausted on a million different levels.
A second too late. She fired but it didn't matter at all.
Screw up.
Two bodies leaking blood. Should have been one.
That miserable throbbing. She hated it.
What did you do? What could you do?
Undeserving of warmth, she thought herself. Or love. Maybe just giving into those desires would do. She could do better. But she wouldn't.
The effort was too much. She started to feel that way.
Took another puff and exhaled. Ash fluttering away in the breeze.
She would go back home and see him as he always was, calm and stoic. It started to bother her.
She didn't want to keep failing. She didn't want to fail him.
The cigarette came to an end and she put it out. Dropped the end into a small cylinder and closed it. Found another and lit it. Puffed into the air. A cloud of smoke.
Maybe it was fear after all. Could she overcome that?
She didn't think so. It wasn't possible.
So she would have to remain in neutral, then. It seemed like a fitting enough punishment.
She closed her eyes and stood up.
Wading into the unknown again. Not sure if everything would be alright in the end. No clear solutions.
She would screw up again, just like this time. And the time before. And hate herself for all of it.
Maybe that was destiny.
She opened her eyes and glanced at the bodies again.
An uncertain future. That was her blessing.