#seaevent003

winter: this storm is a 10/10 nope

     everyone in brighton knows it’s going to be a bad storm when even neon let’s its workers go early to get home before the storm hits — something about how shifts will be played by ear or something, but she doesn’t listen because she’s got her mother chattering in her ear. with her free hand she pulls up the hood of her rain jacket, as she rolls her eyes about what her mother is telling her on the phone. she’s babbling about making sure that she has enough water and food in case the power goes out and she can’t leave her flat. which is promptly followed by take the car if you need to go anywhere, which roughly translates into addison would rather starve and die of dehydration rather than get into a car. 

even without the whispered forecasts and rush of preparation, he would have known it was coming. there has been an ever-present aching reminder of every bone he’s ever fractured that foreshadows the severity of the billowy black clouds on the horizon. it feels like the kind of natural eventual that changes things; that carries the weight of something more with it. something wicked this way comes. 

neil casts a sideways glance at the gloomy grey sky directly above as he bends to touch his toes. thunder rumbles far off shore, a prelude to what the restless coast has been hinting at all week. his bones sigh another ebbing ache. a warning. 

he ignores it. he knows what being caught out in this storm means — he still ties up his laces; wraps his fingers around each of his ankles in turn to drag their respective leg up, bending their respective knee. reckless.

a feeling lodges in his chest, something shimmery. he rolls back and forth from toe to heel, bouncing in place a bit to loosen up his muscles. he does not look directly at the sky again but the pounding in his ears sounds more like faraway rain on the water than an anxious heart beat. 

There the crackle of static on the other end before his flatmate was interjecting, hurried and firm. “Shut the fuck up, okay? You’re at work, right?” The short male gave a nod even though nobody could see him and stepped in view of one of the mirrors in the studio, leaning closer to inspect the bags underneath his pale grey eyes. “I need you to go to Tesco and get a few things. I’ll send you a list of what I need and you get stuff for you, too, okay? Hurry up and don’t be late coming home.”

The dainty blond straightened his posture before responding, his frowning face reflected in the mirror. “It’s your turn to pay for groceries.”

“I know, I know,” He sounded annoyed in a way that made a knot of anxiety form in his stomach. “I’ll pay you back when you get home. You need anything from Boots? I’ll try and get a refill for your prescription just in case. Send me anything else you need. Be careful, okay?” Without further ado or elaboration, the phone goes dead and he was left blinking at himself in confusion for a long minute thinking about the fact the grocery was being dumped on him for the third time this month and he had just been hung up on. Cherry on top of a spectacular fucking day.

When he stepped out of the studio, he immediately wrapped up warm, closing his coat securely over the garish, large sweater that was hanging off his wiry frame and wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck. It was pissing down outside and he had been sick enough times. He stuffed his hands into his pocket and stepped into the pouring rain. The skies were were as dark as blackened lung, full of clouds that looked like the thickest smoke, and the wind blew so relentlessly it almost knocked him right off his feet. The February wind was merciless as it cupped his face in its icy hands, his cheeks heating up under the frozen caress. The walk to the nearest Tesco was about 8 minutes, but he managed it in five, slowing down only to stare at the packed store from outside. It was out of the ordinary to see a Tesco Express that was this full. Maybe there were more offers than usual. His phone buzzed twice in his pocket and he pulled it out, eyes narrowing when he saw it was the list from his flatmate and a vague message from his sister that said, ‘everything ok?’ Why was everyone being so fucking weird?