polarized

student, photographer, accidentally a time traveller

caused a massive destructive tornado upon her town by time travelling whoops

beware the quiet man actually don’t, she’s harmless

vibe check! [takes ur photo]

woah, okay. the closeness didn’t take her off-guard but the flowers in her hands definitely did. the bouquet is a beautiful thing, with different shades of blues on different flowers. fuck, she suddenly wished she knew flower language so she knew what they represented. she knew jack shit about flowers, despite her sleeve (really she left the finished design up to the tattoo artist). the bouquet– it probably was a coincidence, maybe not at all personal, and she’d try not to read into it, but fuck if it didn’t just derail her entire long-winded apology.  chloe laughed dumbly, awkwardly. ❝ Thanks, the last thing I remember is taking a post-medication nap and then waking up beside that giant hole again three months later. That hole’s fucking creepy, by the way. I’m pretty sure people use it as a body dump. ❞ she nearly joked about being one of those bodies before cutting herself off. that’d be an incredibly stupid thing to say to max.  chloe sighed. ❝ Your guess is as good as mine. I’m just glad you’re still here. I.. didn’t mean to disappear on you. Obviously. ❞ would it be cheesy to tell her that she wouldn’t leave her again in a million years as long as max would have her? that she’d fight against the universe to stay by max’s side? that she was nothing without her?  the words died before they hit her tongue, leaving them in awkward silence for a moment. her grip on the bouquet tightened before she sat them upon the display case and went in for an embrace. i’m not gonna get my sap all over her while shes at work, chloe decided as she pulled max close.

❝ What time do you clock out? ❞ chloe asked, softly. ❝ As much as I’d love to steal you, I don’t wanna be responsible for getting you fired. ❞

   It has been sitting somewhere in the back of her mind -- the knowledge that offering a bouquet to a pretty girl can be misconstrued in different meanings -- but it only hits once the flowers are out of her hands. Max flushes, a light rouge on her cheeks, and almost steps back before Chloe gathers her into her arms and she relaxes, instead, leaning into the touch. Much like last time, she’s warm, and she’s real -- not an illusion, not a dream, not a trick, however odd the circumstances may be for both of them.

   “I know,” Of course she didn’t mean to. There is no way they could have avoided each-other for so long in only one city, and Chloe wouldn’t have done that to her; besides, three months is nothing on five years. She loops her arms around Chloe’s waist, pressing closer. “I’m not going anywhere, Chloe. Not this time. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

   Whatever happened doesn’t matter-- it does, but in the grand scheme of things, she’s okay, and Max has heard snippets of this happening before. Appearing and reappearing in the city; sometimes the same, sometimes a different person from a different time. It’s hard to tell if this is her Chloe, but as long as this is the Chloe that she knows from here, it’s more than enough. Max has fewer reservations about being sappy, whether on the clock or otherwise, but she does let go, eventually.

Bob sighs, hands in the pockets of his track jacket. Spotting someone out in the pouring rain without even an umbrella was one thing. (Don’t pay any mind that he’s one of them.) It was the fact she was some teenager staring down that endless hole that caused a bit of concern. Coupled with a rather hasty retreat from it. 

He can’t help but wonder what it was that changed her mind. 

“Relax. I’m not gonna give you a lecture or anything. In rain like this, you could’ve fallen down there by accident, you know?” 

And if she did, he would’ve jumped after her to try and save her, like an idiot. 

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” his voice is gentle, and genuine. He lets himself lean a little more on one foot than the other. 

   “I’m fine,” She insists, and -- maybe it is better for her to give him something rather than risk him making any assumptions. “I just wanted to see it up-close. It must be important, for them to just -- put a hole like this in the middle of the city... but you’re right. I should be careful. I’m sorry.”

  Slipping on the rainwater and into an accident has crossed her mind, but this is just -- rain. She’s seen worse, scarier, windier, more dangerous.

   Angrier.

within max’s grasp, she felt safe. its funny, she even felt that way through all the horrible shit the both of them experienced, that as long max was with her she’d be fine. even when max told her that she had to rewind because chloe had died (whenever max told her that it gave her a chill down her spine and a wrong feeling she couldn’t place), even when they had just dug up the love of chloe’s life… max made her feel safe. she guessed it made sense, with max practically being a god and all.

her trembling calmed and she sat there a moment in silence, taking in max’s warmth. if max had truly let her go she must be going through some fucked up “seeing ghosts” type shit right now. like those dreams chloe used to have about her dad but fucking worse. or better, maybe? hopefully better, since chloe, as far as she knew, wasn’t some subconscious grief or regret manifestation.

❝ Max. ❞ chloe took a breath, wiping her wrist against her eyes and her nose. she had really jumped the gun with that little emotional outburst, right?  ❝ It’s not about me, you know. I accepted my fate. I mean, I’d be lying if I said “oh yeah I appeared here and was totally still cool with dying”, because no one really wants to die. But when its you or a whole town full of dumb assholes who also are alive and breathing? Not to sound high and mighty, but it would be really fucking selfish to want to continue building off my life and sacrifice all of theirs. I can’t– I won’t be upset about that decision.  ❞

the sun was setting, casting an orange glow upon the suburbs. it almost reminded her of the sunsets she spent with max that final week. but she figured everything would remind her of that until she got some healing in, right? and what about max? what would her healing process even look like? she saw my dead body so many times, chloe thought, with a guilty glance over at max. does she really deserve to continue thinking about what not even she can change?

chloe easily shrugged max’s embrace off, raising to her feet. her throat still felt tight and her eyes dry, the tears were still drying on her cheeks. but it wasn’t fair to try and unload all of this at once, to either of them. ❝ Regardless, it seems like the universe cant seem to get rid of me. I mean, what other hot chick is gonna challenge time and space with her existence? It’d get real fucking boring without me around. ❞ chloe smiled, extending a hand out to help max up. ❝ Let’s worry about our shared trauma later. I’m hella starving. ❞ had she even actually eaten a real meal this entire time…?

.

   She’s right. Logically, Max would let her go all over again if she needed to -- feel her heart break all over and mourn over again for a wound repeatedly opened up, but do the right thing. Seeing Chloe next to her, though, in her warmth and glory and beautiful profanity, is a hard thing to let go so easily. She only needs to look at her, feel her -- and a feeling pulses in her veins, a hard determination to let the Earth tear itself apart if it means it leaves her life alone. 

   This is bad. She should know better. Call it an impulse, call it the power of love or whatever -- it’s a ‘fuck you, fate’, for all it’s done to them. For how unfair it is to kill a scared girl with a loving family, and to give another powers but make it abundantly clear she’s not allowed to use them without consequences. Max doesn’t respond as Chloe talks, and lets her detach from her arms without much resistance. She doesn’t know if she will make good on her promise -- do all in her ability to prevent her deaths for as long as they’re here -- but she is not taking it back, either, and she is not telling Chloe the opposite.

   I’m letting you go. She’s really tired of letting go. It doesn’t matter; they’re alive, for now. The whys and hows can wait until they have more information. Time travel and storms are quite a separate problem from wherever, and whatever this is.

   Chloe recovers. Her composure, at least. Max looks up to her smiling face, outstretched hand, bold & confident statement against time and space. She smiles back, even if her smile is strained. Exhausted. She is glad to have her back and back into the groove of normal conversations, everyday shit-talking-- they’re okay, and you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth-- but the whole ordeal is new, and unreal, and her mind is still catching up even now. 

   “Okay.” She takes her hand-- heaves herself up to standing on shaky legs. Hopefully nobody has been trying to enter, or leave, while they’ve been blocking the door. “I think I have money... apparently it’s all digital here. I haven’t been out much, so I don’t know what we have to choose from... should we take a look around?”

“What on earth were you doing out there?”

   She doesn’t have a good explanation. Max watches him, lip curled, and turns a glance in the direction of the hole. The plan had been simple; scope it out, see if there’s anything inside, and jump, consequences be damned. Curiousity, and an admittedly naive idea nursed by the many films she’s seen on time travel and testing the boundaries, that being way before she’d found her own.

   She’d left quickly. Standing by the edge of something you can fall into fosters certain implications -- and Max doesn’t want to give anyone that idea when they look at her.

          ❝ Yes. As long as I have been here and even a little before, things such as this are common. It has something one usually comes to expect to happen whenever a holiday approaches. ❞

   “Right...”