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This room was designed to fuck with her.
She knew that. Go figure.
So why did it still piss her off so badly?
She laid in her bed on her back, hands on her stomach. The lights were off. She rarely turned them on. She couldn’t sleep.
The walls were pink, the rug to match. Pastels graced the surface of every goddamn object in the room. Rainbows and stars and hearts and stuffies, dolls and clothes and flowers and all bullshit to get her mad.
None of it was real. It didn’t matter.
So why did she care?
She still felt the eyes on her from earlier. As soon as Caine’s fingers snapped and she was put in that dress, she could feel it. The stares, the burning of her face. It was humiliating. They shouldn’t have seen that. But it wasn’t real. It didn’t matter.
So why did she care?
She shifted to her side, and stared up at the wall of black polaroids. The backsides of pictures she used to hold so dear. She knew what was behind them. They taunted her. So why did she still leave them up?
She turned her head back up to the ceiling.
Stars.
The ceiling was covered in stars.
She used to love those stars.
She used to love those stars.
…
Jax quickly got up and left, slamming the door behind him. He didn’t even know why he spent any time in his room anymore. It was a nightmare for any sanity he still had left in him.
He stormed his way into the kitchen. It was late, so he was sure no other people would be there to bug him. He kept the lights off anyways.
He leaned against the wall behind the countertop and slid down to sit on the floor. He wasn’t panicking this time, no heavy breathing or shaking. But he couldn’t breathe. His chest was tight, his expression blank. He held his arms to his chest. His gloves acted as a buffer between him and his stupid purple rabbit skin. Still, he tried to sink non-existent nails into his flesh. No matter how hard he squeezed, he could never leave any mark or hurt himself to any satisfactory extent. He’d tried before.
He kept trying though. He held himself in an iron maiden grip, eyes wide and pupils small.
Honestly, he never even knew what he did it for anymore. Was it a punishment for what he had done to her? Was it simply self hatred and pity manifesting itself subconsciously?
Did it even matter?
He didn’t care.
Suddenly, a light flickered on. On instinct, Jax let go of himself and relaxed himself from the fetal position he had formerly been occupying. He outstretched his legs and put his hands behind his head.
“Hello…?”
Pomni. Dammit.
”Hey Poms, ever hear of knocking? You woke me from my nap.”
The small jester rounded the corner, looking down at Jax with a perplexed expression. “Jax..? It’s the middle of the night, why are you napping in the kitchen?”
“God forbid a man get a little hungry.” He said with a golden smile, popping up from the ground and pacing around the countertop to take a seat at a barstool.
Pomni cocked her head. “You weren’t eating anything. You were just on the ground.”
“Yeah, hense the nap? I got tired.” He responded, kicking his feet up onto the counter and leaning his chair back. He avoided her eyes like they’d give him the plague.
She stared at him for a moment. “Whatever you say, I guess.”
“It’s late for you, Pom. What brings you out here?” She walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a mug. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured a drink might help. Want anything?”
He waved his hand at her. “Sure yeah, whatever you’re having.”
Stupid. He felt so fucking stupid. She totally saw right through him. Weak. That was a terrible coverup. Why did he come here? He hadn’t been here since—
A mug appeared in front of him. Whipped cream, marshmallows, cocoa powder on top. Oh.
Pomni slid into the seat next to him. “I was in the mood for something warm, and this looked pretty good. Out of the options we have. You’d think we’d have a lot more, considering this is an infinite digital world or whatever— Jax?”
Jax stared down at the cup in front of him, pupils the size of pinpricks. His gloved fists stayed down at his sides.
“Jax!”
His head snapped towards her. He relaxed, an uncanny smile spreading across his face as the black in his eyes widened to fill the yellow sclera.
Pomni’s brows were furrowed with concern, and a bit of frustration. “What is up with you tonight?”
He strugged. “Nothing, ‘sup with you?”
She scoffed. “You are such a jerk.”
“How cruel.”
He tossed the cocoa back in one go like it was a shot. He slid the empty mug back over to the jester, then smiled as he got up and turned away. He gave a faux yawn, stretching his arms. “Well, I’m beat. I’m heading to bed. Thanks for doing the dishes by the way, Pom-Pom.”
Pomni looked down at her own mug with discontent as her friend walked away. She was hoping for a better conversation than that, especially after the day they’d had together. She spun her chair around.
“Hey Jax?”
The rabbit stopped in the doorway, not bothering to turn around.
“Yes, Pomni?”
“Are you okay after earlier? You seemed pretty uncomfortable with… Gangle’s poll result. I’m sorry if you were embarrassed about that. If you need to talk or anything, let me know.” She offered him an awkward smile
He turned his head, giving the girl a wide smile. “I’m great. Never better.”
The rabbit walked away before she could get in another word. He returned to his prison cell of a bedroom and closed the door. She laid back down in her bed, forcing her eyes shut this time around.
Curse her stupid fucking girly room, curse that maid outfit, and curse anyone who happened to ever give a singular shit about her. Curse whatever in her felt the tiniest bit happy in that damn dress. Sissy.
Just then, there was a knock at her door. She groaned, swinging herself out of bed and dragging her feet across the floor. She opened the door to find nothing but a package on the ground, with a little note on top.
Jax,
I know you don’t want to talk, and I wanna respect that. But you are also clearly going through something, and I won’t hear it that you’re not. I wanna help. You’re an asshole, but I can’t help but love you for it. If nothing else, I hope this will provide some comfort. Yours, Pomni
She picked up the note, reading it quick, then the box. She quickly took it inside, closed the door, and slowly opened the box.
Inside was a glass mason jar, small orbs of light floating around inside. Fireflies. Or at least, Caine’s attempt at digital fireflies, probably from the stargazing adventure.
She stared down at the jar. It was beautiful. Like Christmas lights bottled up in a glass that was only for her. Her hand hesitated for only a moment as she picked it up. Ignoring the gut instinct to smash it on the ground, she walked it over and placed on her desk. As for the note, she taped it up on her wall underneath the polaroids.
As she climbed back into bed and tried to sleep, she found her eyes always made their way back to the glowing mason jar in the corner.
And for the first time in a long time, she drifted off to sleep.