(no subject)
When Jill entered the Compound for the second time that day, she had intended on simply getting herself a cup of coffee before heading into the lab where she knew Bob was likely waiting for her. It would never be her virology lab, but it was still work and right now work was a welcome distraction. Right now work was what she needed, even if every time she entered the lab and saw the electron microscope, she remembered him. Remembering him wasn't the problem, it was remembering that he was gone now that hurt.
The stop she made in the rec room was unexpected and she couldn't have explained what drew her in the first place, but she came to a stop in front of the bookshelf and scanned the titles of the film cannisters. Most of them didn't interest her, although there were a few familiar titles on the shelf, but there was one in particular that she wanted and she took it from its place on the shelf, turning it over carefully in her hands.
ReGenesis: Lethargica. She knew what it would show and so, with shaking hands, Jill moved over to the projector and loaded the reel carefully. It was beginning, she could feel it beginning, the pounding of her heart and the shortness of her breath, but she had to see it. She had to see David, she had to hear him say those words to her, even if it would only be projected on the wall.
Standing beside the projector, she wound the reel until she found the scene she wanted and suddenly he was there again. It was exactly what she'd wanted, her fingers curling tightly into fists as she listened to him, his voice so loud in her ears.
Winding the film reel back, she watched it again and again, until her lips were moving along with his, whispering the words he'd said to her while she'd lain in the coma. "Or even when I just see you at work, it's like, um... it's like everything I need. Yeah. It's like I see you and I... and I'd be happy to never eat or do anything ever again if I could just be with you."
She missed him. Already, she missed him so badly and she had no idea how to deal with it. All her life, she'd never missed anyone like she missed David now.
[She's in the midst of a mild panic attack, so while she's not in the best shape, it's still an okay time to meet her. She'll just likely need a second to collect herself for strangers. Late tags, slow time welcome, of course.]
The stop she made in the rec room was unexpected and she couldn't have explained what drew her in the first place, but she came to a stop in front of the bookshelf and scanned the titles of the film cannisters. Most of them didn't interest her, although there were a few familiar titles on the shelf, but there was one in particular that she wanted and she took it from its place on the shelf, turning it over carefully in her hands.
ReGenesis: Lethargica. She knew what it would show and so, with shaking hands, Jill moved over to the projector and loaded the reel carefully. It was beginning, she could feel it beginning, the pounding of her heart and the shortness of her breath, but she had to see it. She had to see David, she had to hear him say those words to her, even if it would only be projected on the wall.
Standing beside the projector, she wound the reel until she found the scene she wanted and suddenly he was there again. It was exactly what she'd wanted, her fingers curling tightly into fists as she listened to him, his voice so loud in her ears.
Winding the film reel back, she watched it again and again, until her lips were moving along with his, whispering the words he'd said to her while she'd lain in the coma. "Or even when I just see you at work, it's like, um... it's like everything I need. Yeah. It's like I see you and I... and I'd be happy to never eat or do anything ever again if I could just be with you."
She missed him. Already, she missed him so badly and she had no idea how to deal with it. All her life, she'd never missed anyone like she missed David now.
[She's in the midst of a mild panic attack, so while she's not in the best shape, it's still an okay time to meet her. She'll just likely need a second to collect herself for strangers. Late tags, slow time welcome, of course.]