Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding (Jacoby)

Subject: Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding (Jacoby) Thu May 29, 2014 1:32 pm

It was funny really, how the world looked blurred when she really took the time to notice. The fabric of reality had been somewhat patched over these last years, colour filling in the washed out spots of memories that were forgotten. Life had not been a tapestry rich with intricate, interwoven hues but it had been something pleasant to look at.

And now Azalea couldn't look at it at all.

The healer's words rang in her ears again and again, so much so that the witch had to keep pressing down on the horn of the spider despite the lack of traffic, just to drawn out her own thoughts. Music, the realization emerged too late. She should have put on some music instead of raising hell on the road. But somehow it didn't matter, good samaritan that she was, no one had noticed.

No one ever really noticed, did they, until it was too late.

Azalea didn't know why she was in London nor what time it was. All she could really tell was that the sun had bade the city goodnight and people of a nocturnal inclination were more present on the streets where she drove. It would be close to midday in canada, maybe early evening.

In another world, she would be home making dinner, waiting for jake to return.

Swiping furiously a the tears in her eyes, the witch slowed her car, looking around for a parking space. She couldn't go home like this.

If she could go home at all.

Locating an alcove, Azalea stered the spider into it, clicking the invisibility booster before exiting the vehicle. Automatically, her feet took her towards the Leaky Cauldron, finding her the darkest booth in the place.

Away from prying eyes, from waiters too busy to take her order and away from anyone who would care why an american girl was crying in the dark corner of a London pub, Azalea finally broke down.

Slytherin Seventh Year Posts : 52 Join date : 2013-11-03

It had taken a process of trail and error for Jacoby to map out exactly how far his father's sphere of influence extended to know where he could and could not get away with sneaking off to. It really was just pure and random happenstance that had lead him into that booth inside the Leaky Cauldron. After the shocking realization of how lonely and unhappy he was during his last Defense Against the Dark Arts class, JC had wanted a bit of time to clear his head and sort through the menagerie of feelings he was having. He didn't really have any friends he could talk to, and he doubted his father would condone his desire for companionship when he 'should be focusing on his studies and furthering the Windsor name'.

He wanted to just run away again, oddly enough things had been simpler when he was hiding and constantly worried about what was around the next corner. For that year his mind didn't have to contemplate the unusually cold feeling from sleeping in an empty bed, or the hollow reality of having no one to talk to or rely on. But he couldn't run from his problems anymore--mainly because he was positive that his dad would find him anyhow. But also because he knew that if he ran he'd be denying himself the chance to ever find the sort of happiness he was looking for.

Just as Jacoby was preparing to flag a waiter over to start drowning his woes in drink the doors opened and a very familiar face walked in. After a brief attempt to get Azalea's attention Jacoby noticed that there was something strange about the Herbology professor. Gone was her normally cheerful and happy demeanor, seeing her on the verge of tears just about broke the teenagers heart. Very little contemplation was put forth as JC decided that he was going to talk to the woman. Hearing her cries from right next to her booth reminded the boy of the first real conversation he'd had the woman and how he'd broke down. Now it was his turn to repay the kindness that had been shown to him that day.

"Hey Azalea," he whispered softly as to not startle the woman. Slowly he moved closer to her sitting down beside her and giving her a very concerned once over. "This is probably the stupidest question ever...but are you okay? I mean I can see that you're not...but like do you need anything, is there anything I can do for you. I have chocolate?"

"Hey Azalea,"

For a moment, the witch was sure she had imagined the voice, sprawled as she was on the table, her face on her crossed arms as her hair trailed in a messy tangle above her head. It was too late for her to run into anyone, no one knew she was here.

No one except the Slytherin who was speaking to her, Azalea realized as soon her mind was able to put a face to the voice.

Under normal circumstances, the Herbologist would have raised her head, composed herself, discretely wiped away the telltale tear tracks from her cheeks. But in that moment, Azalea couldn't care to even pretend that everything was alright, not even for the sake of a student.

Why bother when the world had clearly gone out of its way to confirm what she had always known, that she was broken, defective, worthless.

"This is probably the stupidest question ever...but are you okay? I mean I can see that you're not...but like do you need anything, is there anything I can do for you. I have chocolate?"

Raising her head slightly to look up at Jacoby, Azalea stared blankly at the boy? Chocolate? Could that really help? It was her own fault really, handing out those blasted things to kids to make them think that chocolate sovled all problems.

Until one day when they came across one that couldn't be solved by ingesting a Honeyduke's product.

Mutely, the witch shook her head, slumping back down on the table. She knew she made a miserable figure in her current state but why shouldn't her exterior reflect how she felt on the inside?

Broken beyond repair.

Slytherin Seventh Year Posts : 52 Join date : 2013-11-03

It was a rare situation indeed that left Jacoby at a loss for words, but seeing Azalea like this definitely stunned the boy.The blank almost empty stare she gave him just about set him to tears himself, but he steeled himself against the urge to cry knowing that that was the last thing that Azalea needed right now. Instead he sat down beside her and just gave her a hug, remembering how much the simple action had helped him when his life was falling apart. It was honestly all he could think of to do--crying girls had never been his forte, and he'd never had much practice in handling them. He gently stroked her back in a comforting manner as he hugged her to affirm that he really was there for her.

"I don't know what's bothering you Azalea," he started off in a low and hushed tone, "but I do want you to know that whatever it is...if you need someone to talk to or just a shoulder to lean and cry on I'm more than willing to provide. And I'm gonna shut up now before I say something stupid and make this worse, so if you want to talk go ahead. If not we can just sit here and I'll hold you and not let go unless you want me to."

Eventually, the witch felt warm arms around her, pulling her into a small hug and giving in, Azalea traded the surface of the table for Jacoby's shirt, letting her tears run over the soft cotton instead as the Slytherin enveloped her in his arms.

"I don't know what's bothering you Azalea,"

The Herbologist shook her head, even in her current distressed state trying to convey that it wasn't Jacoby's fault. Perhaps some day they would be able to look back on this without all the knives piercing through her heart but that was not today.

The world was still far too blurry for hope.

As Jacoby went on to say something Azalea couldn't quite catch, the witch concentrated solely in staunching the flow of tears against the boy, trying to make her breathing even enough to enable speech.

"W-went to the h-h-hosp-ital today," she managed as fresh tears rolled out her eyes. "She said I can't.. c-can't," a sob choked the end of the sentence, sending the brunette into another flurry of tears.

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