#itchose

[  .  .  .  ]   𝐢𝐭'𝐬  𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝  𝐭𝐨  𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥  much  safety  in  any  capacity  as  of  late.   laura  lee  supposes  she  isn't  unique  in  this  regard   —   sure,   those  of  them  that  have  survived  the  crash  have  found  safety  in  the  form  of  their  abandoned  cabin  and  the  animals  natalie  and  travis  have  hunted  for  food.   but  with  every  passing  day  without  rescue  has  them  further  and  further  through  the  summer  and  closer  to  the  danger  that  comes  with  winter.   laura  lee  finds  herself  praying  more  than  ever,   praying  that  rescue  is  only  a  matter  of  time  away.   she  tries  not  to  let  the  fear  that  it  might  not  ever  find  them  take  her  over.

" you're gonna be fine, " van murmurs, but the lie feels brittle as glass in their mouth. melissa sounds so small, defeated in a way they haven't heard since the last snowfall, and who could blame her?

shauna pointed a gun at her — and fired.

shauna who, for all her talents, is a dubious shot at the best of times. the same shauna they've been enabling by turning a blind eye to her bullshit, justifying her downward spiral by reasoning that she's just going through a lot right now — as if that absolves them of their duty to actually do something to help as opposed to ignoring her as best they can, hoping she'll just ' get better ' all on her own.

van's jaw tightens. they glance back up the hill to where the other yellowjackets are spread out across the encampment, some sitting in small groups, others busying themselves with menial tasks. nobody wants to talk. nobody wants to share so much as a glance for fear of pissing off their butcher turned trigger-happy, tyrannical dictator. it's fucked.

they're fucked.

they turn back to melissa and exhale a short sigh. " i'm sorry, m. that should never have happened. we shouldn't have let it get that far. "

A BIT OF BOTH ACTUALLY, but she lets a familiar mask of calm cover that thought, sensing private feelings and insecurities would not be safe in her hands. something wounded about callie, despite a veneer of gnashing teeth and a cutthroat attitude. if quinn's learned anything from the frequent and brutal blows delivered by life in the past few years, it's that none of this could matter by morning. WHY HOLD ON TO ANY OF IT? the words slip right from her shoulders, their judgment feels lighter now that she's stopped giving any weight to it. ❝ sure i guess so, won't this all be obsolete in a few more years? ❞ for anyone who didn't peak in high school, that is. she doesn't say it out loud, but the insinuation hangs above them like a cloud.

STAGE 1 COMPLETE : deflecting from the original accusation, forcibly shifting the spotlight, and it's still not the worst reaction she's had being backed into a corner. not even close.

@itchose - spotify wrapped

Thankful for being brought a new drink by the bartender, Erica realises she might have read the scenario wrong (and maybe she'd been just a little too hopeful). Still, she offers a small, if not awkward smile.