➜ " 𝐍 𝐎 𝐓 𝐄 𝐒 " 𝐑. 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞

{~ chapter 22 ~}

Almost slipping from the icy porch, Y/n pretended her stumble never happened and quickly got down to touch the ground. The neighborhood kids were outside exploring the snowy streets. She greeted Baizhu who was following the group that included Qiqi around since it was snowy and somewhat icy outside so nothing would happen with the kids. It would only take around five minutes by car, but she wanted to clear her mind a little.

As the frigid air entered her lungs, a warm breath was exhaled in return in a fleeting misty cloud that faded within seconds. A small shiver went down Y/n's spine, causing her to shove her bare hands into her pocket. The snow made mushy crunching noises beneath her feet since most of the snow had already mostly been flattened by other people that had previously walked the sidewalks. A few centimetres of newer snow piled on cars by the streets, some people scraping the thin layer of icy snow off their windshields with a card. The familiar and ordinary sight helped ease her mind.

Y/n's eyes lidded in half, hazed by thought. She trusted her body to find the store and left it on what she liked to call autopilot.

☆

The stinging, bittersweet smell of alcohol hit her senses. With a shirt that was stained in unknown things and plain sweatpants, she slung over the small dining table with a cigarette in hand. A thin trail of grayish smoke arose from the end, leaving behind a musky smell. The only light in the house was the spec of amberish glow that came from the cigarette that was agonizingly burning away.

It smelled like yellow. Not the warm yellow of bloomed flowers or the refreshing warmth of the sun that wisped through the window. But a sick, sticky kind of yellow that hangs around the back of your nose forever. Acrid and dead. The molten stench clung to her hair, pulling and tugging at her clothes.

Dark rings tugged at her eyes from the bottom of her skin, as if the entire world was trying to drag her body down into the ground to suck her up. Ghostly fingers barely hung onto the thin body of the cigarette, lifting it to her mouth to take a light exhale. Its smoke travelled through her lungs, burning up the insides. The coughs of her body calling out to her no longer stiffed on the smoke— smoothly letting it pass down her throat instead. The smell eventually climbed up to her nose, leaving a taste of burnt ashiness behind her tongue that was already bitter from the tang of cheap alcohol.

Letting a puff of fog exhale back out, Y/n sighed for the millionth time that day and slumped down even more if that was even possible.

The apartment was cluttered with trash bags and translucent dark green glass bottles, labels crinkled with age and threatening to fade off any day. A flying insect landed on a laid down beer can by the counter and flailed around, finding itself trapped in the small puddle of spilt liquid around it. Its tiny legs desperately wriggled around, the substance slowly soaking up its wings. The movements soon ceased.

The calendar on the wall hadn't been flipped since.. She didn't even know what day it was today. December? November? February? But it was night, she could tell that from the darkness outside. Or maybe it was still evening, the days had became shortened ever since it had begun to become colder. Dull h/c locks fell around her hair, unruly and disheveled from lack of care. There was a clock on the wall that had been showing the same time since around two weeks ago. 6 : 42 pm. Maybe it would've been better if time just froze like that.

Her head spun and thrummed with waves of agonizing pounds from lack of sleep. Eyelids begging to be shut down even for a moment, she blinked tiredly and forced them opened once more, her lashes fluttering like a sputtering moth taking its last flight towards the nonexistent light in the distance.