Who: Jenny & OPEN When: Tuesday night Where: Homebrew What: drinking {trying to forget some things} Rating: low
Jenny had planned to go out drinking a month ago. -ish. Time was only precise when it needed to be precise, and in this case, it was being very... flippant. She would get as far as the same side of the street, near enough to hear the music playing inside, but she wouldn't enter any of the pubs. Something kept holding her back. Time, she'd tell herself, as shoved her hands in her pockets and walk solemnly back home.
Being immortal means everyone else dying. A wise man might say that some day. Not to her. She'd never meet that face. But the words wouldn't even get to ring true, and she would never get to point that out. Time, is funny, in odd ways. Sometimes it is mean, playing the cruelest of jokes, by letting on functionally immortal person fall for another, but that other person doesn't fall for her. Go figure. No one said immortality was kind. And on such a scale, she's rather young to learn such lessons, but best to learn them early. Except that he's here, with his person of choice, and she doesn't get the luxury of running to whatever time or space she'd like to. Time can be cruel, indeed.
She works dutifully here, tending to the little coffee and tea shop that employs her. She draws patterns of stars she misses or planned on visiting on the paper cups, sometimes with bits of prose she intends to turn into songs later. There's grief in her heart that has pinned her, trapped, and perhaps it isn't just him. It's the faces of her father, now mum that she never met. The Nobles that she may never see again. This new face she wears that she knows belonged to someone else {Amy's friend}. Her inability to travel time or space as she's meant to. It all weighs heavy on her twin hearts.
But maybe, time will be kind and let her forget just a little, soften the edges at least. She texts her Mum to let her know where she'll be - she wouldn't mind the company; then she ventures out, re-tracing the familiar steps of every other time she's attempted this walk. She manages to step inside this time, and she's glad time, her inner monologue, and any other issues have opted to leave her be. She settles into a booth and starts glancing over the menu. Nibbles would be good, she decides reading over the options, and doesn't notice at first when someone sits down across from her.