Hiraeth; the longing for something you can't reach

t h r e e

t   h   r   e   e

  
    "Excuse me?" Jet's voice was drowned out in the noise, " Um E-Excuse me, ma'am I-I-I was just wondering if you know where the bathroom is?"

    The woman turns, blatantly letting her scrunitizing glare drill into Jet,  "Hmmhm Right down the hall you'll see it, right next to room twelve."

    It must be as clear as day, that's why they stare at me. They can all tell I'm a Mask, it has to be that.

    Her feet scampered along in an anxious stride, passing the crowds along the hallway. It was well into the evening now, fluorescent lights greying against the pale tiles in a dull hue. Mr. Roy had said they would leave late-–after midnight, even.

     Remi shuffled noticably closer to her as they turned at the bend, and she noticed just why. The small corridor was packed.

     With Aides.

    She knew they were Aides, they had to be, no one else in Arlyx carried leaking galaxies on there bodies.

    With an array of bruises, markings and piercings, like a dust of glitter against the gloaming sky. They were sitting lined against the wall and their eyes kissed the fluorescent light, in an entirely exhausting way.

   Her boots weighed like stones with each step, she could feel their eyes tearing into her, wether it was with curiosity or malice, she didn't know.

   And they were so silent. It made it even harder.

    Room twelve. Room twelve. Room twelve.

   
    "You go first", Remi's hand nudges her, and her blurred eyes focus on the mahagony words drawn out in front of her.

     
  Twelve.

  .......Her mind feels drainingly blank.

  
    " Hello, are you listening to me?" She waves a hand aggravated," can you just snap out of it for once, God you're so embarrassing."

  
   "Sor––"

 
   "––just go or else I'm gonna piss on the floor."

   
    The bathroom reaks, to put it lightly. Along with the plinks of leaking pipes, the ivory tiles are browning, and there's a sharp tang in the air from all the rust.

      She didn't need to use the bathroom she just needed to be alone.

     Cautiously avoiding all the grime, she flicks the tap and douses her hands in the sprout of water.

     I hope it's clean.

    And her mind's begun racing a whole barrage of thoughts.  She's watching them all run past her too scared to catch any. Champagne's words on a small loop somewhere behind it all.

    She's too tired to think though. So she aimlessly stands there letting the cold water numb her finger tips, till they ache.

  

    Cornel's in the hall when she steps out,