#omission.

is a lie of omission as bad as a straightforward lie? juno wonders that, for a moment, as she catches sight of her friend across the way. sol is beautiful as always, in a way that suggests she’s barely making an effort. the epitome of the “woke up like this” meme. meanwhile, if juno were to go out with a “woke up like this” look, her dark circles and pallor would likely give rise to complaints of zombie virus running amok. she’s not eager for that reminder of the toll her life is taking on her. 

she’s at odds with herself in the same way she always has been. years spent as an outsider have made her eager to please but incredibly stubborn. both critical and yielding in a way that doesn’t seem like it should be possible, a way that can be written off as fickle. but she’s just lonely, when you get down to it. to her very core. it something that’s always been there- the loneliness and the fear of mortality, the surety of death. 

of course she grew up strange. who could blame her? half isolated and on the verge of death on more than one occasion before five years old alone,  not to mention the years thereafter. and then the incident, still emblazoned in her head in capital letters. the day everything changed, and who knows why? the forever nagging mystery of a week and a half of time spent in the blink of an eye. what had she done? where had she been? what horrors had been visited on her? 

so yeah, she hasn’t told sol. but sol hasn’t asked either. then again, who would ask that of a friend, really? hey, juno, are you a fucking witch? do you happen to be making psychotropic potions to assuage your own misery? are you using that biochemistry degree for hedonistic and occult purposes? it’s not exactly tea time chat material. 

but still, sol hasn’t asked, so juno doesn’t have to tell her, so they can still be friends. sol doesn’t have to look at her like she’s a crazy person and juno can have someone to get drunk with and everything can be fine. some part of her life safeguarded from her own shortcomings, wrongdoings. that’s the hope, anyway. 

she’s sipping punch from a crystal, shimmering glass when she does finally approach sol, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart. “I meant to come over and say hi sooner,” she tells her, “but i keep getting distracted..” her attention span has run away with her tonight, and it puts a crease between her brows. she’s always been prone to that jump skip hop of attention, flitting curious from one topic to the next. she squeezes the other’s hand lightly. “what have you been up too? you want me to get you a drink?” she offers both in a single breath, the package tied up with a sweet smile.