"What a shame she's fucked in the head," they said.
He was back. Maeve knew he was back. She knew it as soon as the letter from Jack arrived. It took everything not to go find him then and there, but there had been work to be done. A job to do. A region to run. She couldn't just rush off. So she waited. Maeve had her meeting with Jack. She ate dinner. She read. She did so much to keep from wandering to his apartment, but in the end, that pull she felt to seek him out won.
She goes to his apartment first only to find it still empty. Still cold with that lingering feeling of him despite the fact that it isn't anymore. Maeve lets her feet carry her then as she does most nights. She's still not sleeping well despite the bone weary exhaustion that seems to cling to her, sinking deep into the marrow of her being, begging her to give in to sleep. It never comes. The unknown keeps her from settling. Where did they stand now? Did he still want to do this? Did he want her? How much was he going to be around?
All of these questions burn behind her eyes, buzzing angrily around her skull, refusing to be quiet for even a second. She has answers for none of them and she simply can't take it anymore.
Aidon wings his way ahead of her, keeping an eye out as she loses herself to her thoughts as she so often does, arms wrapped protectively around her middle. Her sandals held loosely by two fingers as she walks, feet shifting the sand beneath them, using muscles in a way that's so familiar she doesn't have to think about it anymore. Instead she practically drifts across the sand, unaware that she's drawing closer to their spot, the very spot that Locke is hiding away from the world. The chilly ocean breeze nips at her skin, tousling her curls and bringing goosebumps forward to prickle across her arms.
Despite how lost in her head she is, her heart tugs her towards Locke, an invisible string keeping them together despite everything and drawing her ever closer to his hiding place.
She goes to his apartment first only to find it still empty. Still cold with that lingering feeling of him despite the fact that it isn't anymore. Maeve lets her feet carry her then as she does most nights. She's still not sleeping well despite the bone weary exhaustion that seems to cling to her, sinking deep into the marrow of her being, begging her to give in to sleep. It never comes. The unknown keeps her from settling. Where did they stand now? Did he still want to do this? Did he want her? How much was he going to be around?
All of these questions burn behind her eyes, buzzing angrily around her skull, refusing to be quiet for even a second. She has answers for none of them and she simply can't take it anymore.
Aidon wings his way ahead of her, keeping an eye out as she loses herself to her thoughts as she so often does, arms wrapped protectively around her middle. Her sandals held loosely by two fingers as she walks, feet shifting the sand beneath them, using muscles in a way that's so familiar she doesn't have to think about it anymore. Instead she practically drifts across the sand, unaware that she's drawing closer to their spot, the very spot that Locke is hiding away from the world. The chilly ocean breeze nips at her skin, tousling her curls and bringing goosebumps forward to prickle across her arms.
Despite how lost in her head she is, her heart tugs her towards Locke, an invisible string keeping them together despite everything and drawing her ever closer to his hiding place.
Maeve
