Jude
In my head I am hunting for myself
but I come up empty again
Maybe it's the pounding of blood in his ears from all the swelling in his face, or the cacophonous drone of his own crying, but he doesn't hear her approach. He startles like a fawn, all long limbs and half-airborne, and while normally he has the big doe eyes to match he's only got one he can see out of properly right now. but I come up empty again
He stuffs his sobbing down until they're mere hiccups, trying to hurriedly wipe away the blood and tears on his face with shaking hands. Gods, he's frightened her hasn't he? Guilt seeps into the few holes left where the grief and anger aren't spilling over. "U-um, sorry," his voice warbles and cracks pitifully as it rises past his split lips. "I um...no. Not - not really?" And much like a child, as the lilt of his voice goes up in a question, the tears start to return. Jude's hands shake, and his bloodied knuckles ache as he presses his hands over his face, ashamed and embarrassed to be seen like this.
"S-Sorry. Sorry. I just - everything is all messed up and I got into a fight and the fountain is so busy -" his vowels are nasally and rough from all the clotted blood in his nose, and he cuts himself off mid-ramble, going utterly still like a possum before gingerly lifting a hand toward the sign that says 'Closed'. "And they're closed." As if that's any explanation for the sheer level of fucked up he is. But as he blinks and more tears come flowing out silently, Jude shoves the rest of the words down under his ribs, because that's what a good son - a good boy - does. They don't make waves or make concerned young women feel uncomfortable. They don't get angry.
the night is a cavern
I am underneath it, inside it, anything but free of it
I am underneath it, inside it, anything but free of it
