All of Space, Time, and You (Thasmin)

Yasmin

TW- description of self harm

I'm dragged into the police station, her lovely brown eyes keeping a careful watch over me. Shaking and feverish, I scarcely take in the surroundings around me as i'm ushered into an uncomfortable hard-backed chair. There's no one else here. I can breathe. 

      "Are you okay?" the policewoman asks concernedly, placing a hand on my knee. Despite my distress, I feel electricity shooting up my thigh, quickening my heart rate. I mumble a half- hearted affirmation and draw away, fearful of what I may do if she carries on touching me. Drawing my knees up under my chin, we sit in silence for several minutes as I run the events over and over in my mind. What a disgusting man! Why didn't I fight back? I'm ashamed. 

      Through the muddle of all these thoughts, I'm able to form a question: 

"What's your name?" I breathe, bringing my knees back down and leaning forwards. 

"Yasmin Khan, my friends call me Yaz though" she smiles, looking right at me. I begin to blush. 

      Yasmin, Yaz, what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Of course, in my thousands of years of travelling, I've found people attractive before but never anywhere near as much as I do this ravishing woman. Strong, tall, kind, she simply exudes comfort and joy. Her long black hair flows down her back enticingly and I have to fight the urge to reach out and see if it feels as silky as it looks. And her eyes, the eyes. Words aren't enough to describe the beauty they hold, pools of joy, but with a hint of something... darker beneath. My sludgy green eyes pale in comparison. 

      I'm drawn back to reality by a tap on my shoulder, and it occurs to me that a question was asked. Ignoring my apologies, Yasmin repeats the question:

"You're the woman from the train aren't you?"

I smile- "you remembered"

"It's quite hard to forget someone falling through the roof of a train, not sustaining any damage, and then running from my house like a frightened rabbit in the middle of the night" She giggles, and my heart melts- how can one person be so attractive? 

She's staring at me again, questioning and confused- "who are you?" 

Uh. As much as I'd like to be honest with her, I can't yet trust her not to call a psychiatric unit if I told her thr truth. I don't want to be this whimsical time traveller anymore anyway. I'm sick of it. 

"Nobody." I stammer. What else was I to say?

Taken aback, Yasmin blinks, but she's not going to give up that easily-"What's your name?" she asks tentatively.

Crap. I don't have a fake name yet. Not one for a woman anyway, and I doubt she'd believe I'm called John Smith... j... Jodie Smith. That'll do. After a few moments of silence, I tell her, with only a slight waver in my voice, a subtle reminder of the lie. 

"Nice to meet you. Properly anyways" she adds, turning away, a subtle smile playing across her lips.

It's only after she breaks the eye contact that I realise how cold I am. That filthy man must have spilt his drink on me. Sodden and despairing, I sit silently and shiver. It's more comfort than I deserve, but Yasmin seems to disagree. Noticing my shivers, she dashes out of the room and returns shortly with a strange mismatch of clothes from lost and found. 

"It's all we have" she apologises, handing them to me. I can't bring myself to move, to even thank her, I simply hold onto the clothes with as much strength as a dead fish. Yasmin sighs, looking me up and down sadly as I fidget uncomfortably. After a few moments of contemplation, she asks me if I need any help changing. Once I nod she begins to peel my huge, sodden jacket from my shoulders, replacing it with a warm, rainbow striped t-shirt and oversized but soft grey coat. Before I can stop her, she's reaching for my trousers, pulling the massive, filthy things down swiftly and revealing the mess below. 

(TW) 

Large slashes snake their way down from my waist to knee, some still oozing scarlet blood whilst rust forms at my calf, flaking off like paint. Intertwined with all of these wounds are words, sentances, carved into the porcelain skin of my thigh. Insult after insult intertwines with bolder cuts, reminding me again and again that I don't deserve to live, that I'm useless, pathetic. 

   Aghast, Yaz draws back and I scramble to yank on this fresh pair of navy trousers, my cheeks aflame. I don't even feel the pain as I irritate the wounds, who respond by letting a fresh flow of blood to trickle to my knee. 

"Christ, Jodie" she whispers, her eyes full of shock and... something else. Disgust? Dismay? Either way, I've burdened her for too long, and for the second time I flee from the gold- flecked eyes, through the police station, through the doors, right out into the pouring rain. I don't stop, don't look back, not until I hear a strangled cry from behind me. 

"Jodie!" Yasmin yells, sprinting after me as I head out into the raging storm.

A/N:

Hi!!! Sorry it's been so long, I've been in and out of hospital for several months due to various mental health issues. Pleased to say I'm on the mend now and I'll be (hopefully) posting a new chapter every Monday, and sometimes Fridays as well. 

Whilst in hospital, this fanfic actually got a few reads (and votes!) which is surprising seeing as this is absolutely awful but thanks so much! See y'all soon :)

Hazel