[Se] Lost
She should have been happy.
The letter had arrived bent in half, creased, and a little damp. The handwriting was his, smudged though it was, and the short note inside had brought a smile to her face easily.
It hadn't lasted, though. Too many worries, too many old fears crowding the inside of her head. She caught the courier watching her as she skimmed the note, and jammed it deep in a pocket before snarling at the smug elf and making her escape. Out the door into the rain, up the ladder to the narrow room she shared with the other healers. One hand slipped on the wet ropes, tearing skin. She cursed, spat, and ignored it. She needed somewhere safe, hidden.
There was no one there but Shen'ju. Se'ala collapsed into her hammock as the spider turned glimmering eyes toward her and raised a leg in greeting. She waited, eyes closed, staring at the back of her eyelids until her heartbeat slowed and her limbs no longer begged her to run. Then she searched her pocket for the letter, spreading it out carefully on her folded blanket, smoothing the crumpled bits. She read it at least five times over, devouring the words, a grin creeping up around the edges of her too-small mouth. Violet was coming here, to Outland! She thought she might be able to get some time to meet him, and show him around the city in Terokkar as he had requested. They could...
The grin faded, not leaving even a hint of a smile in its wake. Stupid girl. Stupid fatty, stupid kodo-thighs, stupid stupid bug-eyed lump. Shen'ju watched from the next hammock over as Se'ala crumpled the note, balling it up and raising a hand to throw it across the room. She paused, though, and set it down again, shoving it into the folds of her blanket. She didn't want to throw it away.
Why keep it, though? Just so she could pretend that someone cared, that someone wanted to see her? She knew Violet didn't hate her. They'd had fun talking, drinking, visiting the seafood place in Bilgewater together. If he truly despised her so much as she felt right now, the way the others did, he would have to be very good at hiding it.
They'd laughed together. Or had he been laughing at her? She remembered, then, the looks he'd given her when she got into fights, the disgusted twist of his lip at the makrura stalks she found so tasty.
Stop it, she told herself, balling her hands into fists. He doesn't hate you. Nobody hates you.
She wasn't important enough for that, after all.
Whatever his reasons for visiting Outland, it wasn't for her. If it was, it was because she'd hinted, cajoled, pleaded--pity. She didn't want that. She wanted to be friends, she wanted him to like her. But that was impossible. She rubbed at an eye, scowling when her hand came away wet. Stupid, stupid girl. Of course it couldn't happen. It had always been just her getting too caught up in foolish hopes and playing pretend.
She could pretend a little longer. She could try to make it work, to show him the city with a smile on her face while wearing the robe he'd made. She could ignore the knowledge constantly building in the back of her mind of every sideways glance, every chuckle that must surely be at her expense, every hint of dislike or scorn.
Or she could tell him not to come, and break the precious illusion she'd crafted for herself.
The wool of the blanket was damp with tears and coarse against her face, and her shoulders shook. Shen'ju gave her a long look, then moved away, gliding toward the exit and her next meal.
I just want things to be good. I just want this all to go away. I just...
She should have been happy. She knew there was something wrong with her that she wasn't.
Stupid, broken girl.
The letter had arrived bent in half, creased, and a little damp. The handwriting was his, smudged though it was, and the short note inside had brought a smile to her face easily.
It hadn't lasted, though. Too many worries, too many old fears crowding the inside of her head. She caught the courier watching her as she skimmed the note, and jammed it deep in a pocket before snarling at the smug elf and making her escape. Out the door into the rain, up the ladder to the narrow room she shared with the other healers. One hand slipped on the wet ropes, tearing skin. She cursed, spat, and ignored it. She needed somewhere safe, hidden.
There was no one there but Shen'ju. Se'ala collapsed into her hammock as the spider turned glimmering eyes toward her and raised a leg in greeting. She waited, eyes closed, staring at the back of her eyelids until her heartbeat slowed and her limbs no longer begged her to run. Then she searched her pocket for the letter, spreading it out carefully on her folded blanket, smoothing the crumpled bits. She read it at least five times over, devouring the words, a grin creeping up around the edges of her too-small mouth. Violet was coming here, to Outland! She thought she might be able to get some time to meet him, and show him around the city in Terokkar as he had requested. They could...
The grin faded, not leaving even a hint of a smile in its wake. Stupid girl. Stupid fatty, stupid kodo-thighs, stupid stupid bug-eyed lump. Shen'ju watched from the next hammock over as Se'ala crumpled the note, balling it up and raising a hand to throw it across the room. She paused, though, and set it down again, shoving it into the folds of her blanket. She didn't want to throw it away.
Why keep it, though? Just so she could pretend that someone cared, that someone wanted to see her? She knew Violet didn't hate her. They'd had fun talking, drinking, visiting the seafood place in Bilgewater together. If he truly despised her so much as she felt right now, the way the others did, he would have to be very good at hiding it.
They'd laughed together. Or had he been laughing at her? She remembered, then, the looks he'd given her when she got into fights, the disgusted twist of his lip at the makrura stalks she found so tasty.
Stop it, she told herself, balling her hands into fists. He doesn't hate you. Nobody hates you.
She wasn't important enough for that, after all.
Whatever his reasons for visiting Outland, it wasn't for her. If it was, it was because she'd hinted, cajoled, pleaded--pity. She didn't want that. She wanted to be friends, she wanted him to like her. But that was impossible. She rubbed at an eye, scowling when her hand came away wet. Stupid, stupid girl. Of course it couldn't happen. It had always been just her getting too caught up in foolish hopes and playing pretend.
She could pretend a little longer. She could try to make it work, to show him the city with a smile on her face while wearing the robe he'd made. She could ignore the knowledge constantly building in the back of her mind of every sideways glance, every chuckle that must surely be at her expense, every hint of dislike or scorn.
Or she could tell him not to come, and break the precious illusion she'd crafted for herself.
The wool of the blanket was damp with tears and coarse against her face, and her shoulders shook. Shen'ju gave her a long look, then moved away, gliding toward the exit and her next meal.
I just want things to be good. I just want this all to go away. I just...
She should have been happy. She knew there was something wrong with her that she wasn't.
Stupid, broken girl.