The thing is...she doesn't. Jo doesn't work. Almost at all after the bar is cleaned up to manageable.
She trades between the main floor and Thorfinn's room while he sleeps, wretches, groans, and curls up in a ball, sweating like he's trying to figure out how to rain from his own pores. She and Merlin exchange glances when they pass, not talking about what they said earlier, and he doesn't comment on if he knows what Jo said to Thorfinn either. Her and her worst timing. That was all that all of this was.
Always the wrong time, always the wrong place. With blood on her hands, and then vomit on her clothes.
She was clean. Most of the bar was a shattered semblance of remembering itself.
Syvli whines, and Jo usually stops to scratch her head, while they both watch him sleep, but Sylvi doesn't leave him now, even though mostly she's curled on the floor beside the bed or the foot of it, not near him anymore, and Jo was remiss to note that sometimes she almost missed the constant contact and pushiness of her now that it wasn't there, and she felt adrift, lost somewhere between the real world of things she was supposed to do and the grey that had set in around it all.
But she kept herself busy. There were messes up here and down there, and she could find things.
Reasons to keep coming back, while he slept on in this sick state she hadn't expected.
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[ Wandering In and Out ]
Date: 2016-12-03 03:33 am (UTC)Almost at all after the bar is cleaned up to manageable.
She trades between the main floor and Thorfinn's room while he sleeps, wretches, groans, and curls up in a ball, sweating like he's trying to figure out how to rain from his own pores. She and Merlin exchange glances when they pass, not talking about what they said earlier, and he doesn't comment on if he knows what Jo said to Thorfinn either. Her and her worst timing. That was all that all of this was.
Always the wrong time, always the wrong place. With blood on her hands, and then vomit on her clothes.
She was clean. Most of the bar was a shattered semblance of remembering itself.
Syvli whines, and Jo usually stops to scratch her head, while they both watch him sleep, but Sylvi doesn't leave him now, even though mostly she's curled on the floor beside the bed or the foot of it, not near him anymore, and Jo was remiss to note that sometimes she almost missed the constant contact and pushiness of her now that it wasn't there, and she felt adrift, lost somewhere between the real world of things she was supposed to do and the grey that had set in around it all.
But she kept herself busy. There were messes up here and down there, and she could find things.
Reasons to keep coming back, while he slept on in this sick state she hadn't expected.