abyss ↣ joe sugg au

one

[Trigger Warning: mentions of depression/suicide]

MUSIC IN THE MULTIMEDIA ABOVE LISTEN TO IT BEFORE/DURING THIS CHAPTER 

She did it again. She stepped into her Timberlands and pulled on her coat again. She did it for the same reason she's done it the past three months. She did it because walking aimlessly around London at 3am seemed more rewarding than lying in bed. She did it because there was no-one there to tell her not too.

The cold wasn't comforting, didn't put her at ease and it wasn't the reason she had left her apartment in the first place. There wasn't a reason, but there wasn't a reason why she should stay either. When she reached the crossroads, she had three options - the fourth already ruled out because that was the direction she'd come from, the direction of her flat. 

To the left she'd probably end up by the small park, the one she'd spent a handful of early mornings buried into the metal of the swings there. The swings that were held responsible for the scar above her eyebrow. Forward, would lead to busier streets, busy as they could get at this ungodly time. Right would lead her to the bridge, the one overlooking the Thames she'd forbidden herself to go to for the past ninety-one days in fear the water would fool her into some better place.

Tonight, was different. Maybe it was the leak in her apartment or the grilling from her Boss that called out for her to go right, she didn't quite know but she didn't quite care to find out. Trudging along the pavement, she only encountered three drunks at most, one even attempting to whistle with his alcohol stained breath. Without success.

When the trees parted and the bridge lay smothered in the fog, only then did she let herself breathe. Inhaling the mist and exhaling with more enthusiasm than needed at 3.17am on a Thursday night, she made a promise not to look over the edge until she was in the middle, the second her eyes met the water she'd stay there, and being anywhere but the middle wouldn't be good enough. 

However, as she got closer, it seemed someone had of similar ideas. The fog was a cruel prankster, leaving her with the option of walking on and putting herself at risk of it not working, or to lean over the railing, much like the other figure was doing, right in the middle but with the sacrifice of not being alone. What perhaps convinced her to act on the latter, was the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke and the undeniable trail of the stuff mixing with the fog surrounding them.

She cleared her throat, "Got a smoke?" She asked, moving closer to the hooded figure.

Their head dropped briefly, before they turned around. It was hard to make out the features behind the too-big hood and the too-long fringe, but those eyes were regrettably familiar, the shade of blue that was too unique to be mistaken for anyone else. That lip ring would look out of place on anyone else's lip.

"Yeah." It was a breathy reply, one she wasn't even expecting, one she wasn't even sure happened. However, when a cigarette was placed between her fingers and a lighter flickered somewhere between them both, she was certain she heard right.

The boy returned to his previous position, shoulders hunched and cigarette between lips. She knew who it was. The newspapers knew who it was. The local shop owners knew who it was. Andrea knew who it was but none of them were here right now to tell her to leave, to run whilst she still could, and they never had to find out if she stayed.

She was sure she wasn't welcome, but she brought the cigarette to her lips and brought her toes to the metal slates of the barrier anyway. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, the two were so obviously drowning in their own thoughts that the water below them was almost mocking. If anyone else was around, they'd tell her she was crazy, tell her she was delusional to be stood here with him. But they weren't. They never were. Perhaps she was those things but she had forgotten if they were bad a long time ago.

"Charlotte." She proclaimed over the edge, almost kicking herself for doing so. To her bewilderment, there was what sounded like a huffed laugh from behind the cotton fabric of his hood.

"You already know my name." He looked at her then, and she thought perhaps the blue of his eyes were much more enticing than the blue of the water. Maybe she wanted to stay on dry land a bit longer if this is what would finally drown her.

"I could make a guess." She lent her head back slightly, taking a long drag of her cigarette and aiming the exhale down to the water, hopes of polluting it sunk somewhere in her thoughts.

"If you don't know it, you don't want to know it." He shrugged and pulled his lip ring between his teeth.

"I'm not sure that's how introductions work." She turned to him now, so he knew he had her undivided attention.

He just shrugged again, dropping the rest of the cigarette over the edge.

"If you don't tell me what your name is, I'll make one up and I lack creativity at the best of times." She threatened.

She was fighting a losing battle, all there was in reply was yet another shrug, maybe a hint of a chuckle. She should leave, that's the thing, and even though it took a lot more than first anticipated to take a step back from the railing, she did.

She let out an exaggerated sigh before saying, "Nice to meet you." She turned, "Bridge Boy."

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