Yuyo
Member
Some time had passed since Belle’s last real low point. The kind that left him hollow and aching. Now, though, he felt steady enough, with far more energy than he was used to, but that also meant only one thing, he was hungry, hungrier than usual at the very least, but his body kept up as long as he fed it something, anything.
He wasn’t picky. Hunger didn’t allow for that. Stale or nearly molded bread, half‑smashed crackers, whatever he could get his hands on, it all counted those days where he couldn't. Calories were calories. But today was different. Today he had ten crisp dollars tucked in his pocket, earned from carrying a parcel across town. Ten dollars wasn’t much for said task, considering it took him the entirety of the morning, but it was enough to buy something that felt like more than survival. Enough for a small treat to lift his mood further.
With a slight bounce in his step, Belle pulled his hoodie tight, dimming his light, trying not to draw attention to the new fissures along his face. The shop’s bell gave a soft ring as he slipped inside. He wandered the aisles, scanning shelves with a careful look. Chips felt too expensive for what little they gave. Yogurt wasn’t his thing. Candy would vanish far too fast and he didn't care much for the artificial fruit flavors. But then his gaze landed on a large jar, its label a bright blue with a grinning peanut mascot waving him closer. Peanut butter, on discount.
He stopped to ponder for a few seconds, weighing his choice. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had peanut butter, but he tried to at least grasp at the sensations he could remember, the thick texture, the nutty taste, the way it filled him up better than most things back when he had toast with the butter thinly spread over it for breakfast whenever Lucian was short on money. The logical outcome was to buy bread and go back home, but in reality, he was growing tired of the taste of store-bought bread, even fresh, it felt like an ugly reminder of his situation, and he wasn't trying to get himself down, not today. So, he reached for a cheap pack of plastic spoons that sat nearby, and slowly walked to the register with his items, while he imagined eating the peanut butter straight from the jar. Who cared if it wasn't normal? It was his money after all; he could do whatever he thought was normal.
Normal, the thought brought him back to her, the meta who could make anything normal just by being near it. He didn’t know her name, hadn’t seen her since the cafe incident, but he remembered her clearly. She had stopped his attacker that day, and without her, he probably wouldn't have the chance to stand here, hungry but alive, choosing peanut butter over despair.
He paid for his things, putting the change in his pocket and heading out, looking for a quiet place to stay for a few hours, eventually finding a secluded spot in a park, under a tree that kept him hidden enough for him to let his hood fall away from his hair, tapping at the glow of the cut across his cheek and brow, as if that would somehow make the light go away, it didn't, obviously. So, he took a deep breath, and sat against the bark, staring at the afternoon sky.
Belle’s mouth tugged into an awkward smile as he held the jar, thumb brushing the label. He wondered how she was, wherever she ended up. Sure, he owed her for saving him that day, but another thought crossed his mind, the normal, his normal. It felt odd, but not terrible when they were close, at least not THAT close when he put himself in danger, no, he meant the limit, the space in which his skin stopped burning, when his fissures were nothing more than paint and his radiation didn't make his bones feel brittle. He wondered if it was all an excuse and he simply fancied her, but he shook the thought out of his head, he didn't even know her at all, and on a second thought, he wasn't sure he could even remember her face exactly among the dust and smoke- Not to mention Belle had horrible eyesight as it was.
"Maybe I can ask Sam to help me find her..." He muttered under his breath, struggling to open the jar for at least a minute before the cap finally twisted open with a slight pop.
Maybe.
