all the lonely people, where do they all come from (thread for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
make_it_better)
May. 11th, 2015 01:00 pmletmeseeyousmileagainPrudence was miserable.
There was another knock at the door, which made her frown and scoot back a little further on her backside before she pulled her knees all the way back up to her chest. She scowled at the closed door and leaned her head a little into the coats brushing her shoulders.
It was safe in the closet, at least. Quiet, shuttered, small. There were no beautiful superheroes in the closet, and if they weren't in the closet, she couldn't lose them.
She missed America.
It wasn't like they'd gotten super serious. Prudence really wanted it to be, wanted it to grow and flourish and spend every second she could with her first real girlfriend, but it seemed like the city had other ideas.
When she couldn't find America for two days straight, she'd confessed her fears to Jude. He'd been the one to explain how it sometimes happens, how people are taken away...and then he spent half the night trying to coax her off the fire escape.
The other half he spent coaxing her out of the closet.
It was becoming a routine, for both of them. Now that Max was living with Brian, often instead of visiting Jude she'd just sleep over at his place, or he would sleep at hers. Lately, he was at her apartment all the time, feeding her and smoking with her, and then sitting by the closet door trying to make her come out when the sadness got to be too much for her to bear. She ate, and she showered, and she worked, but she just couldn't stand to go out unless she absolutely had to.
She always came back to the closet, though. When it hurt, when it got just too grim...when she couldn't stand it, she had the coats and boots and the one dim bulb. It was what she needed.
It was safe in here.
There was another knock at the door, which made her frown and scoot back a little further on her backside before she pulled her knees all the way back up to her chest. She scowled at the closed door and leaned her head a little into the coats brushing her shoulders.
It was safe in the closet, at least. Quiet, shuttered, small. There were no beautiful superheroes in the closet, and if they weren't in the closet, she couldn't lose them.
She missed America.
It wasn't like they'd gotten super serious. Prudence really wanted it to be, wanted it to grow and flourish and spend every second she could with her first real girlfriend, but it seemed like the city had other ideas.
When she couldn't find America for two days straight, she'd confessed her fears to Jude. He'd been the one to explain how it sometimes happens, how people are taken away...and then he spent half the night trying to coax her off the fire escape.
The other half he spent coaxing her out of the closet.
It was becoming a routine, for both of them. Now that Max was living with Brian, often instead of visiting Jude she'd just sleep over at his place, or he would sleep at hers. Lately, he was at her apartment all the time, feeding her and smoking with her, and then sitting by the closet door trying to make her come out when the sadness got to be too much for her to bear. She ate, and she showered, and she worked, but she just couldn't stand to go out unless she absolutely had to.
She always came back to the closet, though. When it hurt, when it got just too grim...when she couldn't stand it, she had the coats and boots and the one dim bulb. It was what she needed.
It was safe in here.
