Hell. Hell. This was why he shouldn’t ask that question.
Discomfort immediately settled into his posture, his shoulders stiff; he shifted his weight slightly between his heels. Caught at a bus stop, in the rain, in one of the seediest areas of Jump with a trembling, forlorn stranger —
— it wasn’t his ideal way of spending an evening.
And now, he felt responsible. To some, that might seem inexplicable — after all, what had he done but offer her his jacket? But the two of them were alone, and the girl (Juvia — was that her name?) seemed prepared to buckle. Said jacket remained suspended between them, away from the girl’s body.
Jason sighed. Gently, he took the jacket from her hands (the inside was still, mercifully, dry). He draped it over her shoulders once more, pulling the hood up over her hair.
“Keep it. I’m not kidding.”
she really shouldn’t have done that - immediately, she noted the uneasiness in his stiffened posture, and the slight regret in his expression. she was such a burden, causing inconvenience for those she hadn’t even known an hour. surely, by now, her lack of change had caused Gray inconvenience, too. she had done that to others her entire childhood, had lost every friend she’d had. and she deserved to be alone, she knew - it was her fault that nothing was different. nothing was better.
the rain poured harder.
taking a few more moments, shoulders hunched and eyes closed, she released a few sobs prior to, with some considerable force, slapping herself in the face.
idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot.
oddly enough, it only took her a few moments after this sudden self-enforced punishment to release a quaking sigh, forcing the tears to halt. her head lifted, gaze momentarily fixing itself on the wall across the road before she rotated herself to look at the stranger directly. reaching to grab the coat from his grasp and place it herself, her smile reappeared.
