BURN HER.

@thysword​ sent ❛ I hate it here. ❜ meme / accepting

       She felt it. That feeling of misplacement, that nagging feeling of being unfit to the situation surrounding them. Like she didn’t belong within the vast numbers of people here. Addison lifts her head to the bustle of living creatures around them; the bust and grind of the common folk doing what they did best in this work place. Exist. And then it dawns on her in this moment, with the words from Helen herself that this feeling was not her own.

       And with it, came another realization. Helen was having a small panic, and so Addison straightens her shoulders with the comb of the wear at the front of her torso. “How about we take a leave? Go on for a walk, I am sure they will allow that much.”

That’s the thing about schools, they were filled with vicious children who could do no wrong in the eyes of their parents and the faculty at this school. They blame the orphan because there’s no one there to truly defend her, and there was a small part of her that wishes that they could see Addison and hear her well enough so she’d have at least one witness. It’s horrid, and even hiding in the darkest corner of the corridors, it was difficult to feel truly safe.

“I suppose at least it’s people trying to be polite,” she mused,” just be glad that other things from the 18th century haven’t carried over. can you imagine if women still had to use fans? I think I’d end up shoving one up somewhere if that was the case.”

❝ No judgment from me – t’each their own. Can’t say I can imagine a single day without a drink, but that’s just me. Maybe you’re drinkin’ the wrong shit if it’s always makin’ ya nauseous. ❞

     She had been quiet all day. There was a toll on her mind and if Addison knew Helen at all. No amount of prodding from her end would get her to speak on the matter. When it came to that look, it was up to Helen to say it herself. If her Helen was anything, she was stubborn like any bull Addison might have heard of. So when she finally spoke, Addison only met it with silence. An answer she expected, surely, but what she didn’t expect was the way that their nature would feel like a bitter bile in her mouth. Funny that was, how she had transcended time and yet still felt the aches of her body in some regards as if she still had one. This felt more akin to such a disregard that is made her ache. “I don’t think so.” She replies, “You’re not alone now.” Hands fold at her middle, fingers interlocking with the set of her chin. A clear of her throat.

       “If you mean romantically speaking. You will find someone, I’m sure.”

There’s a small part of her that wonders if this is what she deserves. To feel unlovable, to feel loneliness and longing; was it coded so deep in her DNA that it found itself plaguing her every moment? It was difficult to hide anything from Addison when all she had to do was concentrate hard enough to see it. She’d tried before. Tried to think of kittens and puppies and all the good things that ought to have sparked joy at their mere existence. Nothing had worked. It never did, so Helen had given up trying. “Not that kind of alone,” she dismisses gently, trying not to let her shoulders slump. Helen tucks her hands right up into her own armpits in the desperation of it all. 

     The dismissive answer helped nothing. Not the curiosity, nor the nature to which the greeting was given. And so a curious eye turns back to Helen before drifting back to the stranger mucking about happily and humming to themselves. “Well, if that were the case maybe you’d finally would start showing interest where it counts, hm?” Brows perk and then she looks to Helen, brows lifting pointedly. “Now why would I go and do that when you look so sour at the prospect of my considering of it.

      you’re only upset because I’m right.

     Truthfully, after her last cashier all but spat in her face and left without another word, Aizhan had been a bit desperate for a replacement. Arabella was decent enough at her job, but being a high school student meant she couldn’t do day shifts, and her other cashier, Richard, was a better barista than, well, a cashier. Aizhan could handle the shop well enough on her own most days, but with the holidays nearing, there was bound to be more traffic coming in soon enough. If the year prior was any indication, this quiet corner of Kent was going to be much busier with the new additions pouring in.

     There’s a hum on her lips as the resume was handed to her, exchanged for the application and a pen, just in case. She can’t help but notice the length of time Helen spent at her current job, and it brings a bit of a smile to Aizhan’s face. ❝Don’t worry about it. I took over this place right out of college, and didn’t have a job before that. I’m in no place to judge.❞ Switching the paper to her non-dominant hand, her right is held out to Helen, ❝Lovely to meet you. I’m Aizhan, and welcome to Niyazov’s Booksales and Cafe.❞

      The holidays had felt like it would be a good time to chuck herself into a new career path, and one that wouldn’t sour her on sausages and meats galore as the other one had. One handed enough pork chops and sausages, day in and day out and soon? Her stomach churns at the thought of it. There’s a small pause where she stares at the offered hand, and Helen can almost hear the sound of Addison’s eyes rolling - her current job, in the interview the fella had just given her a quick up and down with his eyes and went, yeah, you’ll do.

      Her brain finally races to catch up with real life and her own handshake is eager, if not a bit trembly. The attitude was all for show, and it wasn’t often that people didn’t take her at face value and just tack a little sticky-note to her forehead reading: dickhead. “Oh, no way. I’m only leaving my last job because there’s no real progression,” she admits bashfully. Not many people willing to take and promote someone without the formality of education. “Helen. Nice to meet ya! No judgement here, either.”