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You ever wonder what happens after you die?
No, not the ongoing argument about whether your soul carries on to the next life or it just ceases to exist; we’re talking about what happens to who (and what) you were involved with when you were still alive.
Sure, you see people moving on or killing themselves over it, fuck knows if it’s literal or metaphorical, but you’re seeing it as a third perspective.
You don’t get to experience the full spectrum of reactions, of emotions.
You don’t get to experience the impact of your death personally because you’d be gone by then.
But who cares, right? You’re the third party, why would it matter to you? It’s best to shelf the matter and leave it to gather dust until you have to come back to it despite the cobwebs and the insects that reside in said shelf, right?
Usually it's not something you think about.
Unfortunately for Jecka…
“You want me to what? ”
She didn’t have the luxury to stay as a third party.
Here she was, standing at her open doorway as she stared dumbfoundedly at the much-older woman on the other side. Said woman looked like a wreck ; her eyes were red and her cheeks were tear stricken, her posture stiff and straight as if a single poke could shatter her like broken glass stuck together with cheap glue.
Jecka could’ve ignored the door, or at the very least slammed it shut the moment she registered the person’s identity, but how could she do that when it was Nicole’s own fucking mother standing at her doorstep?
Ms. Yu let out a shallow breath, as she made a point to stare at the blonde without letting her focus waver, “I would.. appreciate it if you cleared out Nicole’s room before the end of next week, since I’ll be moving away. You were best friends, weren’t you?”
“I guess? We were, like, the only sane b-- er, people in high school so we got along well enough.”
There was more to it, of course, but it’s not like she wanted to delve into that.
Not right now. Probably not ever, even.
“Not to be rude though,” such a lie came out of her own mouth that she had to contain her bitter laughter lest that false formality between them shatters from the noise, “but why can’t you do it? Isn’t she.. y’know, your daughter? She’s meant to be your responsibility, not mine.”
Nicole’s mother lightly scuffed her shoe on the ground, “I suppose it didn’t feel.. right, to go in and clear her room myself. It would be better if you did it instead--”
“Instead of the one that basically pushed her to kick the bucket? Yeah, Nicole would prefer that, wouldn’t she?”
“What--”
“I know about the argument between the two of you.”
Then Nicole’s mother stills, as if something had cracked yet again despite all the glue and the effort of putting herself back together.
“..How do you know?”
..Right. Because no matter where you look, there was no such proof of the two of them ever having an argument in place of a final conversation.
Nicole hadn’t even written it down on her suicide note.
Right now, though?
“Does it really matter?” The blonde crossed her arms, nails digging into her arms so harshly that she’s convinced she could break skin if she tried hard enough. “Because personally, I don’t think it matters when YOU were the last fucking straw.”
She pointedly looked at Ms. Yu with a snarl on her lips, not bothering to wait for any sort of defence, “Nicole told you what was happening, told you she was getting jumped by every single guy in school because her GYM TEACHER was trying to rape her and failed. What the FUCK kind of mother just says you’ll kick her out of the one place she was meant to feel safe without even LISTENING to her?!”
She unfolded her arms and pointed an accusing finger at this lame excuse of a mother in front of her, “Now she’s six feet under because everyone here is so unbearably braindead that they all think she’s a free-use bitch. Even you, with all the times you told her to take it all laying down.”
She took a step towards Ms. Yu without any care for propriety or any sort of respect, because why the hell would she give respect to someone who disregarded Nicole entirely?
“Now you’ve lost the one and only daughter I hope for dear life that you’ll ever have.”
Maybe she shouldn’t have worsened the rippling after-effects that followed her best friend’s suicide, especially not to her own mother’s face—one so utterly distraught as the guilt had broken her apart from the inside once again, forcing her to freeze like the second before it all shatters apart into tiny little shards of glass.
But right now, she couldn’t really care. If anything, call her a sadistic hoe because she’s really enjoying this moment, even with the foul taste in her mouth.
So she took another step, and she could feel her eyes sting—frustration and grief all mixed inside her into a borderline embarrassing caricature of that ugly, tainted, raw mess that is Nicole’s very being.
“..Now I’ve lost someone I care about.”
Maybe there was something in Jecka’s expression that reflected just how incomplete she was without the sarcastic sociopath physically present with her and droning on and on like some kind of demon on her shoulder or a leech for her car and her gas money, but it had prompted Nicole’s mother to force herself out of her frozen daze.
“You.. cared for her. Probably more than you should have.” Ms. Yu says simply, as if that was the simplest fucking thing the blonde could ever do.
Bitch.
“I’ll care for her more than you ever did.” Jecka backed away, reaching the doorway once again and holding onto the handle to close it on the older woman’s face, “..More than you ever will.”
Ms. Yu nods solemnly, robotically, as she speaks up once again because she really likes the sound of her own voice, “The.. offer.. is still open. Because you’re right.”
“What about? Aside from literally all of it, obviously.”
“That I’ve never cared for her the way you do.”
And then she turns without another word and walks back to her car.
Jecka clenches onto the door handle and slams the door shut with a heavy sigh, rubbing her stinging eyes as she slid down and crouched on the ground. Just when she thinks she can FINALLY have peace, FINALLY be left alone--
“That was rough to see.”
She screamed, losing her balance and tumbling onto her side as she stared at the figure standing.. well, floating, technically in front of her—said figure’s slightly transparent feet are an inch-or-so off the carpeted floor.
…
Right.
She forgot about the reason why she knew Nicole’s final reason for killing herself in the first place.
“Nicole, you ass, ” Jecka hissed out. “I told you not to pop out of nowhere like that.”
“Yeah, well, the fuck was I supposed to do?” Nicole put her hand on her hip with an eyebrow raise, “You’re out here arguing with mom and I sure as hell am not pantomiming some fucking footstep noise just to let you know I’m still here.”
It’s been two weeks since Nicole had killed herself, and it’s been a singular week since she appeared out of nowhere and started haunting her as a ghost. Or maybe she was beginning to lose it like Emily is, though she wasn’t sure if talking to bootleg Avril Lavigne beyond buying her usual shit was really worth testing the schizo theory and potentially dying because of her. Or with her, because apparently she had tried to get Nicole in on some kinda Romeo-and-Juliet double suicide thing… Which is fucked, by the way.
Nicole said it was hot, which.. yeah. But still fucked. It’s only hot in movies.
Either way, ever since she appeared she’s been following the blonde practically wherever she went. Not like the brunette had much of a choice though, considering how it turns out that she can’t actually distance herself beyond a certain distance. She can move around the house, sure, but it’s not like she can go outside unless Jecka does.
..Really, it was weird as hell, like you don’t just wake up and expect to see your best friend hovering over you a few days after you’ve been to her literal fucking funeral, do you?
The whole thing had its benefits though, Jecka supposed. For one, Nicole did now serve as her second pair of eyes, pointing things out that she otherwise would have completely missed. Considering how she was more book-smart and the now-ghost was the opposite, it was a good combo.
Two, she guessed that at least she wasn’t going to be alone basically anytime soon, unless somehow Nicole’s soul disappears off the face of the earth too.
..Though to be fair, ‘benefits’ might be a complete stretch, considering how it’s literally Nicole.
That links up to the drawbacks because of course good free shit never comes completely free; namely, the reasoning above.
Instead of being left alone to her dreams of touring with Ryan Sheckler, now she has no choice but to deal with this unbelievably chatty sociopath just hovering around her. She hasn’t even touched Smallville since four days ago because of the brunette’s incessant protests. ‘Oh, but it SUCKS’, ‘literally anything is better than this shit’, ‘my brother’s porn videos probably have better plots than whatever you’re watching’ which what the FUCK, by the way.
But y’know, whatever. It doesn’t seem like she’s leaving her alone anytime soon, nor is Jecka really doing anything to exorcise her best friend, so…
Said blonde is snapped back to reality, though, as she sees a hand waving in front of her face.
“Hello? Anyone home?” Nicole rolled her eyes with a deadpan tone, “God, you really are blonde.”
“For the last time, I am not a bimbo.”
“Says the bitch who stared off into space instead of answering?”
“For all I know, I could just be schizophrenic.”
“My death enough to push you to a psych ward?”
“Probably.” Jecka sighed as she rubbed her eyes with a huff, “Your mom is such a bitch. And I thought mine was bad…”
“Yeah, at least yours doesn’t push you to off yourself.”
“Sometimes it feels like she does but, like, yeah…”
Then they settle for silence, with Jecka staying at her little spot on the floor as she idly picks at the carpet and Nicole doing.. whatever it is she’s doing, though not a sound comes from her because of her incorporeal form.
At least when Nicole was alive, they could just fuck off and excuse themselves when they had nothing else to talk about, even though that wasn’t necessarily common for them to do so because unlike every other bitch they talk to, it’s actually really nice to hang around with someone cool. Or at least sane.. or san er than the usual.
But they couldn’t do that, not when Nicole was basically tethered to the blonde. Instead, they hung around in complete silence, awkwardness reaching a peak.
..Maybe the whole exchange prior to their own didn’t help either.
The whole.. outburst she had was instinctual, on the spot, not necessarily her most thought-out move, but she couldn’t help herself when Nicole’s mother had decided to pass on HER responsibility on HER OWN DAUGHTER. Like, who the fuck does that?
Does she just not care for--
“So.”
The blonde registers the ghost’s voice, her tone shockingly careful considering who it’s coming from, “..Yeah?”
“You care. For me.” Nicole clears out her throat, looking to the side awkwardly, “Apparently.”
…
Oh FUCK she forgot about that last bit.
Heat travels to Jecka’s face as she follows suit and looks down on the carpet, though it was only for a very brief moment before she shook her head and looked back up with a definitely unbothered look, “Well, duh? You’re like, the only other hot bitch in that school. Now that you decided to kill yourself, I’m the only one left. And I sure as hell am not getting caught talking to you—I’d be known as that pill-popping schizo--
“Schiz- hoe. ”
“--who--" the blonde narrowed her eyes momentarily at the interruption, “shut up. Who speaks to hallucinations of her dead friends ‘cuz I’m a fucking psycho! Do you know how much shit I’ve had to go through to get this hot?”
“..More like how many times you let people skeet o--”
“ Nicole."
“ Jecka, ” the brunette mocked her. “Holy shit it’s like you hit early menopause while I was DEAD dead, calm down... So does that mean you don’t wanna be sexed-up ghost lesbians?”
…
“Or half ghost lesbians,” she added, “since only one of us is, y’know, a ghost.”
“Nicole, I have NEVER once gone back to that conversation today. Or since we had the conversation. Where the FUCK did that come from?”
“I should be asking you that-- your entire speech was gay as hell.”
“What’s so gay about telling someone’s mom that her child killed herself because of her and all the men that wanted to rape her dead or alive???”
“What’s gay is the fact that nevermind the fact that you went on and said you literally care about me, which is already pretty gay anyway, but you went so far as to tell my OWN mother off like some kinda mourning widow who actually DIDN’T kill off her husband on her 8th glass of wine in a soap opera.”
“The hell do you want me to do?! I had to watch you get buried in a casket a bit ago and you’re expecting me to.. what, be chill about everything?”
“Uh, yeah? Does it really matter if I die or not?” Nicole’s eyebrows furrowed at the same time Jecka grit her teeth, “Just pop a pill, you’ll be fine in no time.”
“Why are you SO insistent on not giving a shit about you without it being weird?! God, you REALLY didn’t get loved as a child.”
And there, Jecka clamps her mouth shut in immediate regret as she sees her best friend’s figure quite literally dim to reflect her current feelings, no matter how much she tries to hide it—it’s a weirdly jarring thing, to see the sociopath she knew express actual emotions so openly, so.. obviously.
She was used to fighting for her life to decipher whether Nicole had felt anything for a situation, let alone what she could possibly be feeling.
She wasn’t used to seeing it plain as day.
She didn’t know whether she liked the transparency or hated it.
Jecka rushed out an apology, almost stumbling on her own words, “Nicole, I didn’t mean to say that--”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Nicole waved it off as she looked away, “it’s fine, you’re right. I’m a bitch who didn’t get loved enough as a kid, shocker, old fucking news. At least you grew an actual spine while I was away, I guess.”
“No, Nicole, I--”
“All I wanted was for you to clarify something for me. Years of being alive, and you were the only person who gave me no bullshit whatsoever. Hell, you were the bitch that tolerated me and listened to me and.. and treated me like I’m more than some nuisance. ” The words practically spilled out of the brunette like water rushing all at once past a broken dam, “Years of being.. no, years of surviving and carrying on when NOBODY gave a shit about me or gave me a straight answer, and it all lead to me not even getting a semi-okay afterlife. Hell, I was perfectly fine with nothing in the end. But no, for some reason I have to spend who knows how long with you.”
“All I wanted was one thing; peace of mind. Of all people, I actually fucking hoped to get something from you, Jecka.”
‘I trusted you’, a phrase left unsaid.
Maybe the whole thing was stupid. Maybe this was all blown completely out of proportion.
But with the way Nicole had practically spilled her guts to her after a life where keeping to herself was her only option, the excessive drama felt necessary.
Maybe it was one of those things—give the ghosts what they need, make ‘em happy and they’ll send themselves off to the afterlife.
…
Really, if anyone deserves to rest, it’s Nicole, right?
…
She could be selfish, but…
Mm. Well.
She didn’t want to be part of the problem—not really a great thing on her conscience. Especially after their last conversation while she was alive.
Jecka sighed wearily, “..So what if it crossed my mind maybe once or twice?”
“What?”
And she has the audacity to act like a dumb bitch. Fuck her.
“Just.. I’m telling you what you wanted to know. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
The ghost rolled her eyes, “So you’re saying you actually have a gay crush on me?”
“You think it’s so simple.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Not really.”
“I think it is.”
“And I’m meant to take your word for it?”
“Obviously.”
“You’re dead, you don’t care about something unless it benefits you, and nothing even matters when you’re dead. I don’t have to take shit from you.”
“Good thing I actually care about this, then.”
Jecka stared.
Nicole stared back.
…
“See,” Jecka spoke up, “ that was gay as hell.”
“Not as gay as you, apparently.”
“I’m not even gay, though. Like, I’m probably halfway there.”
“Bi?”
“Yeah. Or maybe straight with exceptions… Actually wait that’s like saying you’re special. Ew.”
“Am I?” And the brunette flutters her eyelashes in the fakest way possible.
“Even in death, you’re a bitch for anything remotely flattering.”
Nicole just shrugged as a form of assent before continuing on, “I seriously doubt you’re straight with exceptions, though.”
“Why?”
“You’ve literally told me you go to Pride parades and make out with anything that lives and breathes the colours of the fucking rainbow.”
“That was once. I said it one time.”
“You’re such a liar. You literally mention it at any given moment.”
“Yeah, well. We should probably talk less.”
“Not like we could. I’m quite literally stuck with you 24/7.”
“Can’t you just.. do that thing where you completely disappear so I’ll just have you as some weird voice in my head?”
“Yeah, but one, going radio silent would be boring for me. And two, do you really want me to disappear?”
“..Ugh.”
“My point exactly.” Nicole laughed, the sound so comforting despite the doom and gloom with her situation, “You’re so stupidly easy."
“No, I’m just less of a frigid bitch compared to you.”
“True.”
The conversation dies down after that, the earlier outburst overshadowed by their constant back-and-forth, just like when her best friend was still alive.
If she was seeing shit then this is so eerily convincing that she might have to actually apologise to Emily for thinking she’s an absolute psycho.
..But just like the sudden speaker herself, the conversation doesn’t die for long.
“So if I didn’t kill myself, you think we could’ve been sexed-up abusive lesbians?”
The blonde groaned, “For the last time, I am NOT letting myself get abused. Getting beaten up and burned by cigarettes would NOT help my skin whatsoever.”
“I dunno. Scars are hot.”
“Really.”
“Why do you think I cut myself?”
“‘Cuz you’re depressed?”
“Okay, yeah. But some people are into it.”
“Yeah. Creepy old men.”
“..You ruined it for me. I was going to talk about Em.”
“That bitch is INSANE.”
“Your point? She’s still hot.”
“I mean.. yeah. True. Ugh I hate that you’re right.”
“I usually am.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. But okay, if we take out the ‘abusive’ bit, do you think we could’ve–”
“Been together?” Jecka laughed, “No. Absolutely not.”
“Now I feel insulted??? What the fuck. Don’t you have a huge gay crush on me?”
She rolled her eyes with a humorous snort, “I don’t have a ‘huge gay crush’ on you. Just like, medium at most.”
“Same thing. Why the fuck not?”
“You’re so pressed about this.”
“I’m hot as hell?? And you’re, like, the ONLY person I actually click with ‘cuz everyone else should probably be on a watchlist. Obviously I’m going to be pressed about it.”
“Okay, listen.” The blonde pinched the bridge of her nose, “Do you want to know why I wouldn’t date you?”
“Duh? All I have is time.”
“More like you ran out and cheated to get more.”
“ Unwillingly cheated.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay, reason number one--” she held out a finger, “--is because there is NO way I’d let myself be another Ari. I have standards, a spine and a severe lack of the ‘insane masochist’ trait. I’m not a begging dog.”
“You say this like I’d try to order you around.”
“You would’ve.”
“..Maybe. But like, for fun, ‘cuz even I’m aware I can’t make you do things you don’t want to.”
“I should HOPE you’re aware—you’re, like, the bitch that hangs out with me the most. Anyway,” she held out another finger, “reason number two, you’re objectively a horrible person.”
Nicole cocked her head to the side, “I thought you supported it.”
“TO AN EXTENT??? I meant it when I said you’re basically a pretty brunette Hitler with a drug problem. There is no fucking way I’m getting myself arrested for something you would’ve done. I like you, but not that much.”
“Oh.”
Jecka raised an eyebrow at the slight red tinge on Nicole’s face (how THAT works, she will never know), but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she moves onto her last point and raises a third finger, “Third, you’re not Ryan Sheckler.”
“I was wondering when you were going to say that.” Nicole crossed her arms, “I don’t get how you like him, though. He doesn’t even look good.”
“You don’t think men look good at all; you think they’re all pedophiles.”
“Because they are.”
Jecka puts her hand back down, “Do you not remember that one mall cop??”
“That was a one-off. And he was murder-y anyway."
“True. But yeah, that was all.”
“Okay, so what about now?”
“What do you mean?”
Her best friend doesn’t shoot her a response nigh immediately like she has been doing so far. If anything, she’s actually hesitating—another thing she has yet to get used to. Hell, she doubts that she ever will get used to it.
It was a strange sight, seeing Nicole think on her words instead of firing back with something stupid without a care in the world.
It makes Jecka nervous. Extremely fucking nervous.
Nicole’s body translucency flickering.. or pulsing softly in and out of reality helped the nervousness a little though, weirdly enough. Even though it was probably in consequence to Nicole’s bafflement, it was.. nice to look at, like a glowing night light.
The moment the brunette actually speaks, it’s as if she was sounding out her own words—it sounded so stupidly alien despite it being in the English language.
“If.. If I asked you, like.. right now. Like, what.. what would you do?”
Jecka’s breath hitches, and no words come out of her in return.
She can’t help but stare at her supposed-to-be-dead best friend and the crimson colour that bled onto pale skin. She couldn’t help but stare at the way Nicole grimaced and looked away, practically cringing at the entire exchange and most definitely regretting the pursuit of this line of conversation. She couldn’t help but stare at pale hands that idly fidgeted and drummed on her lap as Nicole sat cross-legged.
Jecka would’ve thought it was endearing, and a smile even crept up onto her face.
But then her gaze moves, and she finds herself (unfortunately) staring at the ring of rope that hung on Nicole’s neck, a reminder of what happened and what was lost.
A reminder of what they could never have.
Her smile fades the moment Nicole dares to look back at the former, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Jecka?”
“..It wouldn’t work.”
Sorrowful amber eyes force themselves to keep still as she sees ocean blue widen before looking away in resignation.
“Why not?”
Jecka pursed her lips before answering, “You’re dead.”
“I know.”
“We can’t do things like normal people do.”
“Who cares? ”
She took a deep breath, “ I do. I don’t want to seem like a wacko screwball that made up an entire relationship with someone who killed herself.”
“But you aren’t –”
“Literally WHO is going to believe me if I went ‘oh, yeah, I’m getting all sexed-up with the ghost of a sexual assault victim that ended up offing herself’?”
Nicole doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything.
“And nevermind all of that, it’s not like we can do anything people would do in a relationship.” She holds her hand up again, listing each point with another finger tally, “We can’t go out on dates ‘cuz it’ll seem like I’m completely delusional, we can’t talk to each other in public, we can’t do stupid couple shit…”
Jecka opens her palm as she continues, fighting the sting in her eyes as she attempts to slowly graze her knuckles on Nicole’s cheek. Instead of physical contact, all she can feel is a slight chill as her fingers pass through the latter’s face as if she were nothing but cold air, and the brunette’s visage flicks to non-existence for a split second, like thick smoke that you can easily wave off.
There isn’t even any warmth.
Fuck.
“Nevermind being sexed-up lesbians, Nicole, we can’t even touch each other.” Her hand hovers at her dead best friend’s roped neck, the offending cause of the loss of one of the only people that mattered to her, before she draws it back and combs her hair back, “I don’t know how it’d work, let alone if it would even work, in the first place.”
Suddenly the light-hearted mentions of Nicole’s predicament doesn’t seem so light-hearted anymore, the situation heavily hanging in the air.
Nicole doesn’t make a move to disappear or say something. Instead, she stares down at her hands silently.
..So Jecka breaks it instead, with a question she definitely shouldn’t be asking.
“Why do you ask, anyway?”
The ghost doesn’t answer immediately, opting to stay silent instead for a while. But when she does, it’s a quiet admission, “I’m dead.”
Jecka doesn’t say anything. She simply waits for Nicole to continue.
“I’m dead because I killed myself. Obviously. You even sent a text.” The brunette laughed mirthlessly, “Everything was fucked. I lost time because I decided to be some stupid fucking doormat, I lost whatever pull I had as a hot bitch because of a literal TEACHER that wanted to rape me, I lost my house because my mom decided to kick me out, I lost my life.. but as much as I blame that whore, I lost you. And when it really sunk in, I think that was the end of it.”
She let out a shaky breath as she carried on, whatever supernatural powers at work here forcing her to go on again, “Now I’m a ghost because of.. who knows why, and I can’t even control the shit that comes out of my mouth anymore because it’s like I’m as transparent as my literal fucking body right now, and it pisses me the FUCK off, how I can’t seem to finally retire early from everything. But then…”
And as she looks back up again, Nicole mirrors her action from a little while ago and lifts her hand to try and ‘graze’ her own knuckles on Jecka’s cheek. The result is a slight feel of cold air like before but instead of it feeling like a reminder of what they can’t have, it.. feels comforting. A weird feeling, coming from this supposed sociopath, but then again everything about this situation is weird.
When Nicole finishes her train of thought, the look of adoration that she wears catches Jecka off guard more than anything else probably will, the latter’s mouth hanging open the slightest bit as the former spoke, “I realised I could do something I refused to do because of everything else.”
Jecka licked her lips before asking, “..What is it?”
“Liking you.”
Even if it was Nicole’s own admission, Jecka couldn’t help but feel like some kind of bar or a barrier’s been lifted. Who knows what it could be—she felt lighter, and she didn’t care to think on anything more than that.
Really, who the fuck was she, trying to rationalise shit like this? It was stupid.
Before she could say anything in turn, Nicole winces at herself, drawing her hand back and putting it on her lap, “Have I ever told you I HATE whatever keeps me from literally saying nothing to you? It’s like I’m drugged to tell the truth but I’m really not.”
And Jecka can’t help but laugh, her eyes crinkling this time without the weight of everything bearing down on her, “Yeah, it’s a bit creepy. I’m not used to you being so embarrassingly honest.”
The tense atmosphere has been lifted, and Nicole could see that her best friend was no longer in a mood, from the way she smirked as she jabbed back, “ You’re the one who’s talking to yourself, according to literally anyone else.”
The blonde doesn’t reply, though amber eyes roll good-naturedly.
..And she thinks back on Nicole’s confession, now without digging herself deeper and deeper into a hole she can’t escape from.
…
“We can try it.”
“Huh?”
“We can try being.. together. A couple. Girlfriends. Or something with a gal and a ghost.”
“But you said it wouldn’t work.”
“Yeah, well. Can’t a girl change her mind?”
“I mean. If it means things go my way, then I’m not complaining about shit. Though not that I’m complaining, but why’d you change your mind? You were dead set, like Kelly with collecting every STD known to man.”
“Dunno. Felt like it.”
“Bullshit.”
“Don’t know what to tell you, honest. I guess I just.. gave up on caring.”
“First time for everything.”
And the blonde dares to try again, to put her hand above Nicole’s own.. and there’s that touch of a feeling—something is there.
Both of them realise this as they both looked at each other with shared degrees of childlike glee.
“Yeah,” Jecka says, “first time for everything.”
Death is depressing, obviously it is; both the actual death and the aftermath.
But loss makes room for something new, one way or another.