lost_boy | (no subject)

I tended to sneak out a lot less these days than I had when I first arrived in Darrow. For the most part I slept better, I felt more comfortable, and I wasn't as jumpy as I had once been, but every so often I still grew restless at night. I wanted to run through fields and stretch my legs. I wanted to swim with mermaids and fight pirates, my dagger slashing through the air. I didn't want to go back to the Island, not ever, but sometimes I wanted to be that boy again.

It wasn't possible in Darrow, but I still knew I needed to get out. I texted Beverly, asking if she'd want to meet me, because right from the start, she had been the one I escaped with. We had snuck out together, wandering the streets late at night, and it still felt right, that she be the one I go with when I felt like this.

I slipped out with ease, though not before I folded a note into Eddie's hand so he knew where I had gone if he woke up and found me missing.

Even with spring approaching, the night was cool and refreshing, and I exhaled deeply once I was outside on the street. Immediately I began to feel better, and I walked slowly, taking care to stretch my arms and legs as I went, wandering toward Beverly's apartment to meet her.

I didn't know what we might do, but I assumed we would find something.

Threaded | Flat

Back when she lived at the Home, Beverly used to sneak out all the time. It wasn't that she ever really felt unsafe there, but she liked to know that she could, and to get a little privacy — alone or with a friend — that was rarely afforded to her within those walls. At home, she always had to fight to find that, too, and, she reasoned, it's not like they could have kicked her out. There would have been nowhere else for her to go then. Now, living with Hopper, she doesn't feel the need to sneak out nearly as often. She's far more comfortable there than she was at the Home, and she cares far more about not pissing him off than she ever did about the Home's staff.

Still, the same principle applies: She likes to know that she can. Besides, these days, she feels like a mess, though she works hard to hide it. She feels like a spring coiled too tightly, something under pressure and ready to burst, liable to do so at the slightest provocation. Getting out is a good chance to try to clear her head, and it's a hell of a lot better than the nightmares she has every night. So when Jamie texts her, she doesn't hesitate to agree, seizing on a perfect excuse to do what she might have been tempted to anyway.

She's cautious as she slips outside, making her way slowly and carefully down the fire escape, not wanting to make any noise. Once she's down on the sidewalk, though, she lets out a relieved breath, fishing a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of the bottom of her bag. Her attempts at quitting haven't been going so well lately; they, too, make her feel a little less tense, a little more able to breathe easily, something she badly needs.

When Jamie approaches, she smiles, lifting one hand in a wave. "I take it you got out okay?"