Phoenix Zhang
9 May 2025, 04:14
A Study of...Friendship?
Phoenix didn’t respond at first. Her quill was still in her hand, the ink at the tip dark and unmoving as she stared down at the final line she had written. She wasn’t reading it anymore—just letting her eyes rest there while she processed the shift in the room. Graci’s voice had broken the quiet, not in an intrusive way, but still enough to pull Phoenix from her own head.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Date: 22/04/25 | Time: 16:45 | Outfit: Robes | CC: #711919
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She finally set the quill aside on the edge of the parchment, ensuring it was exactly parallel to the paper's edge before she looked up. Graci was halfway packed, her bag quietly rumpling as she packed items into it. She looked. happy. As if whatever moment of silence had transpired between them had served her in some way. That wasn't something she was used to. Most people found being in Phoenix's presence suffocating, too sharp or frigid. Graci hadn't minded in the slightest.
"It was...nice to meet you too," Phoenix at last said. Her voice was silky, her tone heavy, but not laced with anything. No sarcasm, no impending warning. Simply quiet integrity.
She paused for a moment before responding, her eyes weighing whether or not she should include something. Then leaning forward very slightly at the head, and her eyes crossing briefly with Graci's, she did include, "Returning to study some day would be okay."
It was as much of an invitation as she could muster. And she did intend to, though she'd never say it out loud just how uncomfortable it had been to extend that kind of thing to someone she barely knew. More uncomfortable even than that had been how normal it had all been. Graci hadn't spoken much or stayed. She'd just. sat beside her. Phoenix could handle.
As Graci walked away—flashing her good-bye beam and those flashes of robes like she was the heroine of a novel—Phoenix caught sight of the corner of her mouth curving ever so slightly. Not a smile, not quite enough that it could be noticed if one didn't happen to glance, but there.
She waited until the circle of footsteps had become very far away before she was in motion again. With the same precision she had observed during labor, Phoenix unwound her materials by inches. Quill, parchment, ink, all in masonry silence concealed. She adjusted the strap of her pack and took a last glance at the almost-emptying room.
And then, silently, departed by the door.
Quiet. Stable. But a touch less isolated than she'd ever been.─────
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| 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉: @Graci Laren | 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: @ |
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
END OF THREAD