𝙒𝘼𝙓 𝙎𝙀𝘼𝙇𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘾𝙄𝙂𝘼𝙍𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙎 - 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙗𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙩

v - flashback

five: bad days

The woman stood under a nearby streetlight, its golden hue shining brightly in contrast to the darkening autumn sky. Her brunette locks blew over her face as she stared off into the busy street in front of her. This was nothing new; as she often took her sweet time in walking back home, preferring to stay out of her house for as long as she could.

Swaying her feet, she took a seat on the side of the curb, watching aimlessly as cars flew by, nothing but blurred figures illuminated by a mix of artificial glare and moonlight.

Reaching into her jacket pocket, she pulled out a cigar, lighting it carelessly, nearly burning her index finger in the process. Unfazed, she placed the stick between her lips in desperate attempt at smoking away the familiar bittersweet feeling, though there was no use; it always came back, or rather she came back to it, in the end.

She sighed, letting out a breath of smoke, the black-gray clouds carrying her overwhelming emotions along with it. Though, for a reason she could not place, she still felt unsettled, as though she were being watched.

Slowly, the woman turned around, feeling a sudden movement behind her. She wasn't scared, of course; she was too fatigued to feel much of anything. Though, even she couldn't deny that she was mildly curious as to who other than herself would be out on a now-empty street so late at night.

It turned to be a man, looking to be in his early twenties -same as the woman- standing silently next to her, his aura of bitterness matching her own. He looked at her through the frames of his glasses as though silently asking permission to sit.

Gazing into each other's tired eyes, they came to a mutual understanding of sorts, as the woman, not knowing what to make of him but curious nonetheless, nodded her head slightly.

With that, the man lowered himself down to the curb, their previously locked eyes both turning away toward the street. After a couple moments of silence, the woman sighed, holding a newly lit cigarette out toward the figure of the dark-haired man, motioning for him to take it.

The man took the cancer stick with no hesitation, nodding a thanks as he placed it to his lips. Running his fingers through his hair, he let himself smile a bit, breathing out a cloud of smoke. He did this a few times before his curiosity got the best of him, and he spoke, breaking the silence.

"A bad day for you too, huh?"

The woman only blinked at him, studying his face in silence before shaking her head. "Calling today a bad day implies that there are, in fact, good days."

The man stared at her blankly for a few moments, not exactly sure what to say in response, before eventually holding out a calloused hand, letting out a slight chuckle as a grin overtook his face. "I'm Will."

"Vivian."