#pax.

Mistica do mês de Janeiro

O primeiro mês do ano foi nomeado em homenagem a antiga deusa Jana e seu marido Janus.  Casal que cedia sua benção a qualquer empreendimento autorizado por Júpiter. Janeiro contém, em si, todos os potenciais do ano, mas guarda os elementos, as lições e os resíduos do ano que o precedeu. Por isso é um mês para se livrar do velho , preparando planos e projetos para novas conquistas, mudanças e…

d: hey i never got your number bec i figured that be - weird..

d: so i found you on social media..which is actually a lot more weird now that i think bout it ..

He’d made it as far as the lounge after their Saturday sprints, collapsing on one of the couches for a reprieve from his uncertain legs. Despite the soreness that he knows will come, it’s something of a relief to be in this state—like he’s been reduced down to nothing more than a set of aching muscles, like he couldn’t think more about last night’s game if he tried. 

And something of a relief to feel like he’s been taken to task. Just about the whole team played like shit yesterday—the scoreboard showed it—and he didn’t play any better, didn’t do anything at all to help. Sometimes he feels like he needs a replacement for his father’s critical voice in his ear after everyone game, someone to say the things that he’d say so Leo knows he’s not just making them up. Sometimes he feels like a single harsh word might make his crack right down the middle. He knows he doesn’t make it easy on Wymack or Grant, trying to Coach him, trying to figure out what he needs. Most of the time, he doesn’t know either—until he doesn’t get it.

It’s not like he feels good—who could, after a game like that, after a grueling practice like that?— but it feels better than being left to his own devices to think and overthink his play. Not that he isn’t going to complain about it, though, making puppy eyes up at Pax from his position on the couch. “If you could just—hand me my Gatorade,” he says, his arm demonstratively outstretched to show that, no, he can’t reach far enough to do it on his own. “And then leave me here to die, thanks.”   

Kitra carefully lowered herself down onto the operation table. She couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact, but it was clear to both of them that she needed medical attention even if she refused to let Juan help her walk the moment they’d gotten out of the bar. But it was certain that at least two of her ribs were broken. 

She flickered a glance  up at Pax, “If you are going to stick me with a needle, let me know in advance so I can close my eyes.” her teeth were gritted, and a faint trickle of blood was pouring down from her lip, but she maintained her air of strength.