Joey McCoy is a total daddy's girl. (imanursenota__) wrote in vascaptiolog, @ 2013-12-31 17:06:00 |
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The weather was terrible and Joey knew she probably shouldn't have been out, but she needed to. In the past two weeks, Joey hadn't had a single minute of alone time, between being tethered to Stiles and then taking care of Tate. And while she wouldn't change either of those things, because now she and Stiles were talking again and Tate had helped her see what it was like to actually feel appreciated, she still needed some Joey time and a little space for herself, just for a little bit. She'd never tell Tate about the conversation she'd had with Stiles the night before. It wasn't worth ruining something good to discuss how she'd finally solidified in her head that she needed it and she could let Stiles go. But after that discussion with Stiles, she really just...needed to be alone for a little while. So, she made her way to the thrift shop, because it was the only place she could potentially spend hours without feeling afraid that something bad was going to happen while she was rifling through people's things trying to find her own little piece of home on the racks. Zipping up the leather jacket she'd found when the clothes from home had first arrived — the one that still inexplicably smelled like a guy and she thought might always smell that way, so she might as well get used to it — she thrust her hands into its pockets to drag the fabric closer around herself. The thing didn't fit worth a damn, seeing as how she was swimming in it, and it probably wasn't built for this kind of weather, but it was warm and it was the only jacket she had. Once inside, she took the jacket off and shook the water off it before she put it back on and made her way down the aisles slowly. She passed a rack of clothes that she thought might belong to Carl, another she thought might belong to Allison, and two more still that she thought might actually belong to Stiles and Tate respectively — in front of both of which she lingered for a moment before pushing forward in search of her own. Once she found it, she pushed through the clothing on the rack looking over each piece and recalling a memory from home. At least, she thought, she wouldn't be going home alone when she left this shithole; Tate was coming with her. That alone made her want to separate herself from the rest of the group and focus solely on him. The rest of them, she'd never see again once she was home. Continuing to grow close with them was really only going to hurt her in the end. Tate wanted to come with her; she'd never have to miss him. Joey got to the few couture pieces that she had in her wardrobe and pulled them off the rack, moving back to the rack that she thought belonged to Stiles. She hung them over his things against the grain so that they were impossible to miss and she tore a piece of paper out of her journal, jotting down a note and shoving it through the hooks of the hangers so that it wouldn't fall away. Lydia, haute couture in my time. Keep 'em if you like em. ♥ Joey. If those were Stiles' clothes, he'd find them and give them to her. She moved back to her own rack of clothes and lingered in front of them, running her hands over the fabric of one shirt in particular — one of Daddy's old uniforms from Starfleet. She wasn't entirely sure how it had gotten there except she wondered if it was because she wanted it there. Joey just stopped in front of it and stared back at it, holding the bottom hem of it — because it was too high to reach the hanger and pull it down — in her hands and sighing. She missed home... |