Haven / Friday: After the Train
Haven watched as the woman closed her eyes, as if trying to find strength within herself. It was a strange moment, with them wondering why it would be so difficult to break a promise. Wouldn't it be easier for her? After all, they wanted what she wanted. But on the other hand, if she wanted to keep a promise, they wouldn't stop her. Could they, even? It was a wavering sort of question in their mind, one that didn't have an answer stepping in immediately to follow it.
So they watched and waited and when she answered the question, replied with a nod. It made sense. A promise or an oath or a confession. Or even just a passing word or two, to reassure someone that things would be better. That they would be better. Wasn't that right? They thought it was, but things were starting to roll together into confusion, and the woman was maybe crying but Haven had no tissue or handkerchief or even a napkin. All they had was the clothing they sat there in, and hair that suddenly seemed a little bit straighter and a little bit longer, curling along the fine-cut line of their jaw.
The confusion didn't fade, only grew, accompanied by the feather-flick of their angled bob at the back of their neck. "I don't. It's not. Really, it's okay." They reached out, but the woman was standing, concentrating, and Haven's hand missed her arm. "You don't have to," they whispered.
But the scene that blossomed was beautiful. Not the ballroom, though that was certainly spectacular. But the way the green and the wild grew up to overtake it. The sight of it made them catch their breath, eyes ranging up toward the leaves and the moon, their next exhale accompanied by a cloud of silver in the chilled night. "It's... amazing."