Reticent

[Preface] 10:23pm

--"You locked yourself in the bathroom. Lying on the floor when I breakthrough. I pull you in to feel your heartbeat. Can you hear me screaming "please don't leave me"  -Hold On (Chord Overstreet)--

Hayne - 10:23pm

Fucked up.

The first 2 words that came up to my mind when I looked at myself in the mirror that night. 

My jacket was pulled over my shoulders, my blonde hair shielded my blue eyes from my view, my freckles along my nose and cheeks more visible due to the moonlight.  

I zipped up my jacket and shoved my keys into my pocket, quietly walking downstairs knowing that Colton, my brother, was asleep in his room, and I slipped out the front door. 

I felt the cold air hitting the back of my neck as I jogged down the block towards the main road. The shops had all closed and only a few bars were open at the time of night. I walked along the street in search of something to do, something to consume my time, when I saw her.

This girl.

She had a bomber jacket over a maroon hoodie, wearing black leggings and a pair of converse, sitting against the bookstore, her head on her lap.

I walked over towards her and noticed that she was shaking, her fingers were blue and calloused, bruises forming on her ankle just above the tops of her shoes. I leaned against the store window and slid down right next to her.

Her head turned over towards my direction. Her eyes looked tired, red, bloodshot. Her long brown hair was a mess, tangled and all over the place. But still, she was beautiful.

She was beautiful in an elegant way. Even with all her flaws, she seemed strong. Independent. Her brown eyes reflected mine as the street lamps shone into her eyes from behind me.

We looked into each other's eyes for at least 10 minutes before one of us said anything.

"Hi," she whispered.

Her voice was beautiful, vapor came out of her mouth as her warm breath came in contact with the cold air.

I slipped off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Before she could refuse, I lightly put both of my hands on her shoulders.

"Your shivering, your fingers are numb," I held her hands gently, massaging them to help the circulation in her fingers. 

"Why are you here," she paused for a minute, waiting for me to mention my name.

"Hesperodes, but you can call me Hayne."

"Hesperodes," she murmured under her breath, repeating my name a few times.

"You?" I asked, waiting for her reply.

"Cassandra. Cassandra Sanders.