Jude
and I'm sick of waiting patiently
Jude is fucked up again.
He hadn’t expected to get into more than one physical fight post-breakup, especially after the kindness that Hadama and Noe had shown him, but the validation Noe had given him for his anger had perhaps leaned a little too far into encouraging it. At the very least he can say that this time he hadn’t been at a bar - he’d stuck his nose into a smuggling deal down at the docks because they’d been pushing around one of their deckhands. If he’d been loitering around there intentionally hoping to blow off steam, well…it’s not like he has any parents around to call him stupid.
He’s expecting Noe sometime this afternoon, so he doesn’t think twice when he hears a knock at the door. Winifred blinks lazily at him as he passes by her perch, and he gives her a quick scratch under the chin before he opens the door, a pack of ice still pressed to his cheek.
“Don’t ask, I know it looks -” he’s halfway through a bad attempt at humorous distraction when he looks down and realizes it’s definitely not Noe at his door, but Sohalia. Every muscle goes rigid, and the ache in his cheek blooms hotter than the ice can keep down as his jaw locks up. He wants to slam the door in her face, maybe yell at her to leave, or burst into tears. It’s too much for him to compartmentalize at once, so like any young man he simply blurts, “What are you doing here?” But for all his confusion, it still comes out stubbornly guarded, wary. Hurt, beneath it all.
He hadn’t expected to get into more than one physical fight post-breakup, especially after the kindness that Hadama and Noe had shown him, but the validation Noe had given him for his anger had perhaps leaned a little too far into encouraging it. At the very least he can say that this time he hadn’t been at a bar - he’d stuck his nose into a smuggling deal down at the docks because they’d been pushing around one of their deckhands. If he’d been loitering around there intentionally hoping to blow off steam, well…it’s not like he has any parents around to call him stupid.
He’s expecting Noe sometime this afternoon, so he doesn’t think twice when he hears a knock at the door. Winifred blinks lazily at him as he passes by her perch, and he gives her a quick scratch under the chin before he opens the door, a pack of ice still pressed to his cheek.
“Don’t ask, I know it looks -” he’s halfway through a bad attempt at humorous distraction when he looks down and realizes it’s definitely not Noe at his door, but Sohalia. Every muscle goes rigid, and the ache in his cheek blooms hotter than the ice can keep down as his jaw locks up. He wants to slam the door in her face, maybe yell at her to leave, or burst into tears. It’s too much for him to compartmentalize at once, so like any young man he simply blurts, “What are you doing here?” But for all his confusion, it still comes out stubbornly guarded, wary. Hurt, beneath it all.
for someone that won't ever arrive
