[ it's all happening too fast for him to process, but he sees the moment he fucks up clearly reflected back in her eyes. he isn't quick enough to grab her and he knows he's not strong enough to hold her if she wants to go, but the urge is there anyway, and long after she's gone. it's only seconds after she storms out that he manages to swim through the fugue and back into his body properly, sitting up and throwing blankets away from himself in frustration. so much for vacation. frank takes the time to strap on his knife and secure his boots, knowing she needs a moment to cool down anyway. though what she's even angry about this time is anyone's guess. she doesn't give a shit about what he says, and yet somehow it's always the wrong thing anyway. his luck is truly boundless.
frank digs through his pack for his jacket, pulling the hood over his face first before buttoning it closed. and then he's going for the flask he squirreled away, taking a swig from it before pocketing it and hunching his way back to the entrance of the tent so he can find her. the whole process takes maybe a minute, but he feels like he's moving in slow motion, and like he'll never catch up. he's lost her forever, surely, and the thought fills him with unencumbered dread.
the rain is cool and fresh on his skin, even comforting after a longer dry spell than usual. he blinks it out of his eyes to keep them peeled for any sign of her, not noticing the deep creases in his face that display his worry all too clearly. ] Jess? [ he calls above the growing confidence of the rain's din all around them, turning this way and that to catch a glimpse of black hair, ears pricked for the slosh of a bottle or the stomp of her boots. ]
no subject
frank digs through his pack for his jacket, pulling the hood over his face first before buttoning it closed. and then he's going for the flask he squirreled away, taking a swig from it before pocketing it and hunching his way back to the entrance of the tent so he can find her. the whole process takes maybe a minute, but he feels like he's moving in slow motion, and like he'll never catch up. he's lost her forever, surely, and the thought fills him with unencumbered dread.
the rain is cool and fresh on his skin, even comforting after a longer dry spell than usual. he blinks it out of his eyes to keep them peeled for any sign of her, not noticing the deep creases in his face that display his worry all too clearly. ] Jess? [ he calls above the growing confidence of the rain's din all around them, turning this way and that to catch a glimpse of black hair, ears pricked for the slosh of a bottle or the stomp of her boots. ]