the_muses_stage prompt 47.2.a [you lost me - christina aguilera]
I feel like our world's been infected // And somehow you left me neglected // We've found our lives been changed // Babe, you lost me
Claire knew that the last thing the shop woman expected, when she came into work today, was to end up with one of her customers bursting into tears right there in the middle of her store. Luckily it wasn’t one of those busy places where dozens of other shoppers would have seen Claire as she started to cry but even having one random stranger see her moment of weakness was worse than anything.
She couldn’t even explain what it was that caused her to break. She had standing in front of a rack of cute shirts when suddenly the tears came on, overwhelming the cold facade she had been trying to keep in place. Almost immediately the hot tears flooded her eyes, staining her cheeks as she pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle the sob she could feel bubbling up from the center of her chest. The grief was enough to choke her as she made a strange noise, her vision turning into a watery mess, making it incredibly hard to see as she ducked her head, trying to hide right then and there.
“Oh god, let’s get you into a changing room.” The woman cooed, almost aching with embarrassment for the poor blonde as she peered over her shoulder before ushering Claire towards the back. She was torn between concern for the petite girl and the hope that none of her other customers saw her crying because she didn’t know how to explain what was going on when she didn’t know.
Claire didn’t argue as the shop woman led her into a tiny room, motioning at her to sit on the purple colored bench. She sank down with a grateful sigh as she mumbled a weak apology, barely listening to the other woman as she waved her hand in dismissal before saying something about a glass of water and rushing off.
Feeling rather stupid at the moment, Claire opened her purse with shaking fingers, pulling it open to look for some Kleenex but she found herself staring at a little paper flower instead. Her birthday “present” from King, from the day she had gone to see him in jail. It had been her birthday that day and it had turned into one of the worse days of her life.
She couldn’t say that she hadn’t guessed the possibility that they would break up was coming but it had still stunned her when it happened. When he had uttered the words, she hadn’t said anything. She couldn’t say anything. The realization had robbed her of the ability to breathe and to speak, so she hadn’t told him that she didn’t agree with his idea to somehow save her. She hadn’t told him that he was a complete idiot for trying to be so noble; she hadn’t told him that he was just plain wrong for trying to be the good guy she had never asked him to be.
Holding the paper flower in her hand, she felt a surge of anger in that moment. One that caused her fingers to curl around the delicate petals, crushing them as she fought back an urge to hunt him down so that she could scream and kick him in the balls. It wasn’t like the guards would actually let her. Closing her eyes, she struggled against the rage that chased away the tears and brought her a sickly calmness. But, as soon as she opened her eyes, the rage was replaced by guilt as she stared at the crushed flower in her hand. The flower he had worked on was nothing more than a crumpled mess in her hand.
She swallowed down the thick sigh that came with the sudden nausea she felt over the whole stupid affair. There was no way to fix it at the moment, especially since it wasn’t Thursday. She couldn’t go and see him now even if she wanted to. It was probably for the best since she still wanted to kick him but, by visiting day, perhaps she’d be calmer.
Then she could tell him just how stupid she thought he really was.
Claire knew that the last thing the shop woman expected, when she came into work today, was to end up with one of her customers bursting into tears right there in the middle of her store. Luckily it wasn’t one of those busy places where dozens of other shoppers would have seen Claire as she started to cry but even having one random stranger see her moment of weakness was worse than anything.
She couldn’t even explain what it was that caused her to break. She had standing in front of a rack of cute shirts when suddenly the tears came on, overwhelming the cold facade she had been trying to keep in place. Almost immediately the hot tears flooded her eyes, staining her cheeks as she pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle the sob she could feel bubbling up from the center of her chest. The grief was enough to choke her as she made a strange noise, her vision turning into a watery mess, making it incredibly hard to see as she ducked her head, trying to hide right then and there.
“Oh god, let’s get you into a changing room.” The woman cooed, almost aching with embarrassment for the poor blonde as she peered over her shoulder before ushering Claire towards the back. She was torn between concern for the petite girl and the hope that none of her other customers saw her crying because she didn’t know how to explain what was going on when she didn’t know.
Claire didn’t argue as the shop woman led her into a tiny room, motioning at her to sit on the purple colored bench. She sank down with a grateful sigh as she mumbled a weak apology, barely listening to the other woman as she waved her hand in dismissal before saying something about a glass of water and rushing off.
Feeling rather stupid at the moment, Claire opened her purse with shaking fingers, pulling it open to look for some Kleenex but she found herself staring at a little paper flower instead. Her birthday “present” from King, from the day she had gone to see him in jail. It had been her birthday that day and it had turned into one of the worse days of her life.
She couldn’t say that she hadn’t guessed the possibility that they would break up was coming but it had still stunned her when it happened. When he had uttered the words, she hadn’t said anything. She couldn’t say anything. The realization had robbed her of the ability to breathe and to speak, so she hadn’t told him that she didn’t agree with his idea to somehow save her. She hadn’t told him that he was a complete idiot for trying to be so noble; she hadn’t told him that he was just plain wrong for trying to be the good guy she had never asked him to be.
Holding the paper flower in her hand, she felt a surge of anger in that moment. One that caused her fingers to curl around the delicate petals, crushing them as she fought back an urge to hunt him down so that she could scream and kick him in the balls. It wasn’t like the guards would actually let her. Closing her eyes, she struggled against the rage that chased away the tears and brought her a sickly calmness. But, as soon as she opened her eyes, the rage was replaced by guilt as she stared at the crushed flower in her hand. The flower he had worked on was nothing more than a crumpled mess in her hand.
She swallowed down the thick sigh that came with the sudden nausea she felt over the whole stupid affair. There was no way to fix it at the moment, especially since it wasn’t Thursday. She couldn’t go and see him now even if she wanted to. It was probably for the best since she still wanted to kick him but, by visiting day, perhaps she’d be calmer.
Then she could tell him just how stupid she thought he really was.