'in which you exchange words on a bench'
You tap your index finger on the wooden table. You were alone. Just you, a table, and some chairs. You wonder where you've seen this situation before. At least this time you had your half-dead plant.
The plant definitely raised some eyebrows from the dwindling group of States. You didn't pay it much mind though. It was just a plant, after all. If they truly had an issue with it, they could say so. But they didn't, so the plant remains.
You blow out a breath of air, resting your forehead on the cold wooden table. This room, at least was larger than the one you were held in when you first arrived at this office building. It was still painfully empty and bland, and the bright white coating of the walls along with the fluorescent lights were beginning to give you a headache. That seems to be a consistent theme of this building. A massive headache.
You let out a sigh as you reach an arm out blindly across the table. Once your hand collides with the plastic container of the plant you let it lay limp. The rest of your body remarkably follows suit.
Maybe you were stressed. Just a little bit. Can anyone really blame you though? It's hardly been two days since you were swept off to who knows where, kept on what is essentially house arrest, and then managed to get into a situation where you threw a potted plant at the owner of said house. So yeah, you've been having a fun couple of days. So much fun. At least the sun was finally beginning to set, and you could put this hellhole of a day in the past.
You let your eyes fall shut. The moments that follow were blissful. No freezing cold, no paper shuffling. Simply silence. You could almost feel yourself drift off to sleep. Almost.
"[Name]?" At the quiet call of your name, you sit up glancing around the room. Your eyes squint as the light reenters your vision.
"Yeah...?"
"I didn't wake you up, did I?"
"No. I was just..." You let out a loud yawn, blinking a few times as the corners of your eyes water, "Laying there."
"Oh.. Kay..."
"So what did you want?" You blink at California. She pulls one of the rolling chairs out from the table, taking a seat in it. She glances around the room, letting her gaze linger on the open door. When her gaze falls from it, so does the rest of her body. She lays limply across the table as you had just moments ago.
The room was still. No sounds but your rhythmic breathing fills the room and you didn't dare disturb the silence. In fact, you take the moment to rest once more, even if it only gave you a few minutes.
"Do you... want to come outside with me for a minute?" California finally mutters out, causing you to look up at her. "There should still be a bit of daylight left..."
You only stare at her blankly. The first thing you take note of is the change of her hair. Not only was it hanging around her shoulders in a wavy mass, it had also become a stark white. Her face, confused at your silence, held a familiar flag.
"Uh..." You blink a few times, "Yeah we could go... I guess?"
"Alright," Her shoulders relax, and she sighs loudly, rubbing one of her temples "Let's go." She rises to her feet, and you follow shortly after.
You flex and unflex your hands as a chill washes over your body. Was it from exhaustion? Were you actually just cold? Likely it was some combination of both. You yawn loudly as you exit the office room.
During your short walk to the door California returns to her more human appearance. She haphazardly pulls her hair up into a low knot, pushing the exit door open with her hip. She slides out the door once there is room enough for her to fit through, leaving you to catch the heavy door to push it open for yourself.
Stepping out of the building, you feel goosebumps grow on your arms. It was cold. Stupid cold. A gust of frigid wind blew around you as you glance around. The snow from earlier still lies on the ground. It was thinner, the dead grass poked through from under the white coat of snow, putting in a last-ditch effort to prevent winter from taking control of the landscape.
Your feet splash slightly against the wet pathway as you chase after California. After the cold stopped you in your tracks, she managed to get so far ahead of you that she almost disappeared from view. By the time you reach her side again, she's taken a seat on a snow-covered bench.
She stares over at you expectantly, and you take a seat next to her. Silence still befalls your conversation for a long while. California glances upwards at the dreary sky, shutting her eyes tightly. She doesn't move or flinch for what feels like hours, even when snow began drifting down from the grey clouds hanging overhead.
Finally, she moves again. It had only been a handful of moments, but the stillness of her and the surrounding environment stretched the time to feel like you had travelled miles in such a short period of time. She rummages around in her pocket, pulling out a lidded box and a lighter. She flips the lid open, extending it toward you.
"No thanks..." You slink away from the gesture, starting out towards the street in front of you. It was empty. Illuminated only by the street lights on either side of the road, it had no sight or sign of any souls existing in it, save for you and California. The stench of a cigarette fills your nose and you reflexively shrivel inwards.
You turn back to the state, watching as a puff of smoke leaves her mouth. She sighs loudly, slinking down in the bench, resting her elbow on the metal arm of the bench. She stares upward for a moment before glancing to you. You fold your hands in your lap.
The snow continues to drift around the two of you. It twinkles in the sky, glowing with the same colour of a child's drawing of the stars. California stares at you for a long time, neglecting the cigarette that burns in her hand. It smoulders and smokes in her hand.
"You're strange."
"I know." You shake your head at the sudden comment.
"I'm sure you do..." She turns away from you, taking a long drag from the cigarette. The breath she takes after paints the area in front of her in a smoggy swath. "But I doubt you know just how strange you are."
"What's that supposed to mean?" A bead of water drips down your arm. The cold feeling cause you to shiver, banging your bruised arm as your body stiffens.
"It's not every day someone has the balls to stand up to America of all people..." She laughs quietly, hanging her arm down over the arm of the bench, dropping the cigarette out of your sight, "Even we... Everyone in that building struggles with his temper, and there you go, showing up one day, and telling him off the next."
"Oh..." You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks from sudden embarrassment. "Did you hear all of that?"
"Nah," She pulls the cigarette to her lips, "Just the 'barren wasteland of disappointment' part. Well, a little bit before that, but y'know."
"Oh..."
"It's weird. You just show up... Tell him exactly what the rest of us have been too scared to say, and manage to..." She lets out a sigh resting a hand on her forehead. "Weren't you scared? How'd you do it?"
"What...?" You stare at California, a perplexed look donning your face, "Of course I was scared! I was practically shitting myself the entire time!" You sigh loudly, leaning forward, resting your face in your hand, "Of course I was scared. Of course, I was. But I was angry too. More angry than I was afraid, I guess.
"Listen. I just had everything I knew taken away from me, not even two days ago. I was just trying to get groceries and boom. Suddenly my entire life had changed. I was essentially kidnapped, shipped across the country, and put on what is the equivalent of house arrest. All by the same man." You take a deep breath sitting back up straight, cleaning your neck upwards to the dark sky. Invisible flakes of snow pepper your face. "So yeah. I was afraid. But fear and anger go hand in hand... Or something. I guess."
"Poetic..."
"I'm no poet."
"What are you then?"
The question catches you off guard. What were you? Definitely not a poet. That much was made clear from your disdain toward your English studies class. But you couldn't seem to call yourself anything, other than what you could say with certainty that you lacked. Maybe that made you indecisive then. You were so certain of everything in your life before you got sent almost a century back in time. Though, you find it hard to believe that even the most stable of people wouldn't begin to question themselves after something as life-changing as this.
"Beats me." You finally say, glancing over to the brunette. Small flakes of snow rested in her dark hair.
"Regardless." She taps the tip of her cigarette as she disappears into a thought, ash tumbling to the ground. "It's impressive. Even if you were 'shitting yourself' as you put it, it was impressive. Stupid. But impressive. Not many humans... Not many other countries are brave enough to get into a fight with America when he's angry. But you were..."
"I doubt it was me being brave..." You scoff, resting your bare elbow onto the cold metal armrest, "I was just being an idiot. It was stupidity like you said. He literally threatened to kill me! Not even ten minutes before he threatened to kill me... Fuck..."
"Yeah... I guess that isn't the smartest thing to do. I mean, you threw a plant at him!" She laughs dryly, "But... I don't know..." California taps her finger again, sending more ash drifting through the winter air.
It goes quiet between the two of you again. You turn, resting your cheek on your supported hand. You glare into the sidewalk. A small skiff of snow coated the wet concrete.
"He hurt you... Didn't he?"
"What?" You jump up at her words.
"He hurt you." She states it this time, staring at your shocked face with concern, "You left your jacket in the bathroom. It had blood dried into the collar, and a bit on the sleeve. Not to mention the bloody rags in the trash can and the red streaks in the sink."
"I just reopened a wound. It's nothing serious." You don't know why you're denying this. It was true. He had hurt you, but you acted defensively anyway, "I gave it to myself. You don't need to worry."
She reaches over and grabs your wrist. The yank causes your arm to explode in pain and you quickly pull it back toward you. Her eyes widen, for a moment before softening again, returning to concern.
Gently this time, she reaches for your hand. Hesitantly, you let the arm cross over your body. She scoots closer to you, furrowing her brow as she looks down at your bruise. She touches it gingerly, stopping the moment you reflexively flinch.
"You did this one to yourself too, then?"
"Uh..."
"[Name]. Please." California looks you dead in the eyes. Her stare was laced with concern and in the yellow light hanging over you, you catch tears welling in the corners of her eyes, "Just tell me what he did."
"What does it matter? It's already happened." You mumble out, ripping your gaze from hers. You stare down at the oddly shaped bruise.
"Please."
"Why"
"[Name]! He hurt you!" You watch as her grip on your hand increases, "Why don't you care?"
"I don't know..." You let out a sigh. Your lip trembles as you speak quietly, "Because... I am afraid. I'm so deathly afraid. And... And I just... want to forget it ever happened."
California's hand goes limp underneath your own. You still don't look up at her. Even as tears well in your eyes. Even as they run down your face, in tune with your running nose. Even as you begin to quietly sob.
She pulls you into a hug. Her arms wrap around you awkwardly, one around your back, one near the nape of your neck. You continue to cry quietly into her shoulder, getting snot and wet tears all over the fabric of her blazer. Her hand begins to rub circles into your lower back.
"I'm sorry..." She repeats it like a mantra. Over and over. Apologizing for things she held no hand in. You clutch onto the dark fabric like your life depended on it. And in that moment it did. California's kindness became your lifeline in that moment, and you hold onto it, until long after your tears finally subside.
You pull away, wiping tears and snot from your face. You stare at California as you breathe heavily. She takes your hand again, rubbing circles into your palm. You blink a few times, taking a shaky breath in.
"Y'know..." She hums, "Smoking is like... Really bad for you. Like... Really really bad. It like... Eats your lungs or something. Which doesn't sound good."
"No..." She laughs at your misshapen words, "I guess that doesn't sound too good does it." She reaches an arm around your shoulder, pulling you toward her body. She places the back of her palm against your cheek and you shut your eyes leaning into her warmth. "Neither is sitting out here in the cold. We don't want you getting sick."
"Mmm... I guess not." You grumble quietly as California shuffles out from under you.
"C'mon now. Why don't you come stay in my hotel room tonight? I'm sure that beats sleeping on the floor of an office." She extends her hand to you. You accept the invitation and stumble to your feet.
You yawn loudly as you sway on your feet. A bed will be nice. Way better than some of the other ways you've slept before. You laugh quietly to yourself.
"What are you laughing for?" California's tone was teasing. You laugh again. At this point, she was treating you like a half-asleep toddler, but you couldn't say you minded.
"Nothing important."
"If you say so..." She pulls you along the sidewalk as you let out another yawn, "Let's go. Before you fall asleep standing up."
"Good plan"