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─ ʚ𖹭ɞ ─
Evangeline had a lot of places she went to when she didn’t wanna be found.
This was one of them.
The school rooftop - cracked concrete with metal railings that she could easily climb to jump off of, if she wanted. It was a forgotten place, much like her. No one aside from her really came there, not that she knew of anyway. She didn't mind - she got used to it, living in empty spaces without bothering anyone.
Her head felt lighter than she remembered.
The wind brushed past her as she stood clutching the railing. The street was still. The metal cool between her fingers, the kind of cold that would numb her soon enough. The sky was pale blue, tinged pink, the way it only looked in spring. She could spot a few dull stars if she tried hard enough.
Evangeline slipped off her cardigan and folded it, corners aligned, before placing it beside her bag. She wasn't sure why she felt the need to make sure it was perfect.
She sat down eventually, knees pulled to her chest - feeling too weak to stand.
The wish of a dandelion drifted ahead of her, reminding her she was still alive. She watched it disappear in the faint breeze. The ground beneath was lifeless. If she fell she wouldn't be found until much later. Maybe someone would find her bag and cardigan. Maybe they’d care.
She let out a small bitter laugh.
Someone was out there probably having the best day of their lives, celebrating their birthday with friends and here she was. Sitting alone on a rooftop deciding whether her life was important enough to keep going.
Pathetic.
The door that led up to the rooftop creaked.
Evangeline flinched, her head turning instinctively to look at the source of the sound. The movement unsettled her.
A person stepped in, backpack slung on one shoulder. The door slammed shut with a dull thud. He stilled when he noticed her.
“Evangeline?” he said, tilting his head. His voice was small, smaller than she’d ever heard.
She blinked, “Jacks.”
His eyes flicked over to her cardigan then her face - understanding. He walked over, sitting down beside her leaving only a few centimetres between them, his bag falling flat next to him. He leaned his head back and stared above. Seemingly counting every dim star he could find.
His hair was messy, like he just woke up and came here though his eyes were redrimmed - as if he had been crying before coming here and didn't bother to wash his face. The tie of his uniform was loose, his shirt untucked.
She glanced back at the sky - the colour was the same as his eyes.
The ledge.
“Didn’t expect you to be here.” He mumbled.
“I didn't expect you to come here.”
“Neither did I.”
He inspected the cracks in the floor beside him, absentmindedly running his finger along them. His sleeves lifted and she saw the thin, red lines peeking out from underneath. Her chest hurt.
She shifted closer.
His eyes followed her gaze and he went quiet, tugging his cuff down. “You’re not gonna tell me to stop doing it, or something equally unhelpful?” He played it off as a joke. She could tell he was serious.
“That would be quite hypocritical of me.” She took his wrist in her hands - it was cold, pausing to check if he was fine with it. His head was turned away, his jaw tightened. She took it as permission and unbuttoned his cuff to push up his sleeve.
Her breath caught. For some reason, the sight of him bleeding bothered her more than anything.
His hand clenched around nothing.
More blood than she would've liked. She traced it with her finger, not too deep, she noted.
Evangeline gently let go of his wrist to unzip her bag. He continued watching her.
Then, she uncapped her water bottle and poured a bit on her handkerchief, letting it soak through, then she reached for his wrist again, wiping away the dry blood unhurriedly, not wanting to hurt him more than he already had been. His shoulders were tense, the rest of his body motionless. She pretended not to realise how her own hands shook.
Once she decided it was clean enough, she layered the dressing over his skin evenly. She could feel his pulse beneath her fingers - fast but steady. She chose to focus on it. When she was done, she tucked the edge of the bandage in and smoothed it flat.
She didn't let go. If she did, she would do something she regretted.
His eyes dropped to his wrist then her fingers still curled around it.
Neither of them spoke. The sky had darkened, the pink barely present now. Somewhere below a car passed, its headlights fleeting against the buildings. A pigeon stood on the ledge, unfolding its wings and setting off into the horizon.
Jacks shifted and she loosened her grip, expecting him to pull away. Instead his hand turned unhurriedly and he exhaled, like he hadn't meant to at all and his fingers found hers. It didn't look like he was going to let her go anytime soon. She felt herself start to ease again.
“Your hair, why pink?” he said, his face softening, letting go of the usual sharp edges.
“I like pink,” she hesitated. "I did think of trying other colours, but my mom was already freaked out by this.” She didn't mean to add the last part. The hint of a laugh slipped out from her lips.
The corners of his mouth lifted, just enough to be considered a smile.
“I like it.”
A minute passed between them.
“Tomorrow, will you be here?” It was said simply, but she understood what he meant.
“Will you?”
He nodded once.
“Then, yes.”
─
Evangeline laid still in her bed. Not ready to wake up. Her eyes had opened earlier than usual, she pretended not to know why.
The light came in through her curtains, dull - yet still too bright.
Sitting up, she dragged a hand down her face. Her hair fell over her shoulders.
“Tomorrow, will you be here?”
Something tucked itself inside her chest, unfamiliar.
She got up.
─ ʚ𖹭ɞ ─
The door felt heavy as Jacks opened it. He wasn't sure why his legs took him here out of all places but he wasn't exactly in the mood to think of anything else. He had dashed out of his house, mindlessly needing to disappear as soon as he could.
He pushed it open.
Froze.
Someone was there, knees pressed into her chest. Staring at nothing in particular.
“Evangeline?” he mumbled.
She was already looking at him, “Jacks.” Her voice was thin.
Cardigan folded, bag laid beside it. She looked exhausted. He imagined he did too. Her pink hair was windswept, her uniform a little too tidy for how drained she appeared.
He sat down, leaving space between them. He heard his bag fall next to him. He didn't care. He leaned back, counting the stars he could find. There weren't many.
He wasn't sure how long it had been before he spoke.
"Didn't expect you to be here."
"I didn't expect you to come here."
"Neither did I."
His finger found a crack in the floor, following it to where it split. He felt his sleeve shift, a spot of red covered it.
He cursed himself, tugging his cuff down.
She saw it. He waited for her to mention it. Waited for her to tell him to stop.
"You're not gonna tell me to stop doing it, or something equally unhelpful?"
She glanced at him. "That would be quite hypocritical of me."
Something about it made his shoulders drop.
She reached for his wrist, stopped - waiting. He turned his head away and let her. He heard her sharp inhale when she rolled up his sleeves, gently. She tried not to hurt him. Her hands were shaking. He paid attention to the feel of her fingers rather than anything else.
She was patient. Like this wasn't an inconvenience. Like he wasn't an inconvenience.
When she was done she didn't let go. He didn't want her to.
─
The rooftop was cold.
Jacks pulled his sleeve down over his wrist and sat down, legs crossed at the ankles. His bag slumped next to him. He didn't remember putting it there.
From below he could distantly hear students leaving, cars hurrying past, chattering. He ignored it. The sky was blue, muted, the sunlight didn't reach him.
He checked the time. The leaves of nearby trees rustled with the wind.
He didn't let himself think about what he'd do if she didn't come.
The door opened with a slight groan.
He looked up before he could stop himself.
─ ʚ𖹭ɞ ─