@silkco said : ❝ you trusted me , so then i’ll trust you too . ❞ unprompted , always accepting !
𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 . not ha ha funny , like a well - timed punchline or an animal with its tongue stuck outside its mouth . rather , it was funny in the way a horrible accident would be . hilarious even , a side - splitting spectacle of carnage & fear . to put ones trust in another is like a bit , stale comedy in an empty club & the lights are just a little too bright . jinx is a child in the face of it , fits of laughter & endless giggling despite , despite , despite . . .
their trust was born of need , even desperation . at the bottom of a pit of darkness ( your fault , your fault , your fault ; it echoes like a cacophony of anguish against the bare walls of your mind ) , he’d offered a hand . it didn’t matter that it was his , any hand would have done , but she gripped tight as he heaved her back into the light & she hasn’t dared to let go ever since . those hands , which now lay splayed on the ground before her , haven’t quite mended the things that needed mending , but they hold her pieces together to the best of their ability .
little glass bottles of colorful paint sit in a neat row beside her , pink & blue nearly emptied with use , a stark contrast to their filled counterparts . jinx examines the array with intensity , as serious about her color choice as she was flippant about business . a beat passes , uncharacteristic silence settling over like dust over the pair of them , porcelain figurines on a shelf , broken & forgotten & left behind .
❝ okay , i think . . . ❞ jinx finally breaks the silence , bursts forth into herself like a whirlwind of color as she plucks a bottle from its place . scoots forward to take hold of his wrist , place palm against knee . holding the bottle up against one eye , mirroring the scar against his face , she shows off the dark contents , ❝ black feels like the way to go , right ? ❞
