Between Footsteps| p.jm

ELEVEN| --. .-. . .- ... .

You felt bad.

You regretted a lot.

After a night of staring up at your room's ceiling and at the stuffed cat 62 had gifted you on your first outing, you felt yourself shrink in recognition of your mistakes. 

Snapping like that at 62 and abruptly leaving on such a bad note left a taste in your mouth you didn't care for, and thinking back you realized just how poorly you had handled the situation. You hadn't been thinking properly and had spoken mostly out of fear. Usually you were able to swallow all your problems, but they had all come tumbling out the moment he pulled you away from the curtain.

You wanted to stay positive. You really did. But thinking back on the things you had said made you sink deeper into a pit of despair. 62 was your friend, and without you even noticing, at some point he had began to mean a lot to you. A lot in the sense of... you weren't sure if you could make it in the Between without him.

Your suspicions of him seemed more and more ridiculous the more you pondered them. Why would he be pretending to be your friend only for memories? You had seen the loneliness in his eyes... it was real. He looked out for you and even gave you clothes. You felt disgusted by yourself for wearing his hoodie after saying such things to him and swallowed hard in regret. 

Even by pulling you away from the curtain... although in the moment you feared he was hiding things from you or knew more than he was letting on, maybe he was ultimately just looking out for you. There was no way for you to even know because you had barely even given him time to explain before you exploded and freaked out. If it had been a selfish act out of fear of himself getting in trouble, you couldn't quite blame him for that either. It had been your mistake for trying to sneak in with him around.

You buried your face in the stuffed animal and groaned before you heard the clock tower sounding signaling that it was 'morning' and you would have to wake up and go to work. You weren't sure what to do about 62 considering you would still have to dance... would he be waiting for you to go to practice? This was your fault, and as you showered you wished you could wash away everything you were feeling towards the situation or even the moment at all.

You got ready and found you had no choice but to slide on a pair of the sweatpants he had given you and one of his sweaters. It warmed your body immediately, and you automatically felt more waves of guilt wash over you. Even more so when you realized you were still slightly suspicious in the back of your mind no matter how much you had tried to hype yourself up that he was innocent and you were in the wrong.

You blamed the Between. You blamed death itself. You didn't even know what you were scared of exactly, but that feeling only made it worse. From this alone you were able to conclude that what scared you most was not knowing anything. It made you feel helpless. 

Knowing you would have to face 62 soon regardless of if you liked it or not, you sighed and brushed your hair a little before exiting the bronze hotels and beginning your walk to the food truck. Thankfully you had time you could spend busying your mind before you would even have to think about seeing 62 again.

Or so you thought. 

Upon nearing the truck, you immediately heard people talking. This was a bit unexpected considering your coworkers didn't care for chatter in the morning, and you furrowed your brow as you heard their familiar voices. All the voices were familiar, and your eyes widened upon growing closer to behind the food truck when you recognized that one of the voices... belonged to 62.

You froze, but it was too late. You were close enough to the truck to where you could see your coworkers talking to the gold tier, meaning they could see you as well. You were stiff and unsure as you panicked slightly when you were noticed by 52.