literature

Masks: They'll Break Your Heart

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Literature Text

The red numbers on the digital clock by the bed read 4:58 AM when Jin finally forces themself to crack an eye and peer at it. They reach out an exploratory hand, find their glasses on the bedside table with only minimal shuffling around, sit up, run a hand over their face. Mouth tastes like hot garbage. Jin puts their glasses on and swings their legs out of bed, leaving Ben, an unmoving shape half-covered by the blanket, as they fumble their way to the tiny bathroom by the dim slice of light spilling under the door.

The fluorescent overheads in here are harsh at the best of times and straight up unbearable now, but Jin doesn't give in to the urge to slap at the switch on the wall. The water they splash on their face is lukewarm, even after almost a full minute of waiting with their hand under the faucet for it to run cold. They swish their mouth out with it anyway, grimacing at the furriness of their tongue. Sure would be great if they could brush their teeth, but that would necessitate keeping a toothbrush here, and that’s not what kind of a thing this is.

Jin can almost bear to open their eyes now. They squint at themself in the cabinet mirror, then grumble and look down to find the fresh bruises along one collarbone and another matching set of fingerprint-shaped ones lining each hip. That’s their own fault, they suppose.

Quit handling me like I’m fucking fragile, asshole. You’re not gonna hurt me, I promise. I can fucking take it.

Ben had made the mistake of touching Jin’s face, albeit drunkenly, just for a moment. Jin had smacked his hand away and scolded him, and then they had found themself on their stomach suddenly, Ben’s fingers digging vise-like into the ridge of their hips.

Ben didn’t usually do that tender shit. Maybe he and Jori are fighting again.

Speaking of whom, Jin needs to get a move on and clear out of here before she comes back. If she comes back. It always seems to be a toss-up. Maybe if Ben didn’t treat her like shit.

Maybe you should tell her.


Jin shakes their head at their reflection and gets in the shower.

***

The water is scalding, filling the white-tiled cubicle with steam. Water pressure’s fantastic too. Aegis perks, Jin thinks, eyes closed, face turned up to the hard spray. It’s been a fucking day and it’s not even 3pm. And they’re taking the kids to Jori’s party later, so they can’t even look forward to getting fucked up. That’ll be a zoo - Soul at a dorm party, wearing clothes. Chatting with drunk upperclassmen. Dancing. Does Soul know how to dance? Probably not, right? But they learn fast, they’ll pick it up.

Jin tries to let the water pound some of the tension out of their shoulders. It’s not like they’re worried Soul can’t handle themself, or that Astin and Jess can’t (well, maybe they’re a little concerned about Astin, but only because he’s so clearly nervous about going). Jin just wants everyone to chill and kick it and not think about Aegis or the Medusians or fucking helicopters crashing into buildings for a quick minute, is that such a big ask?

Oh god, and they keep forgetting that the whole goddamn world has seen the footage from the Medusian invasion now.

Jin pushes their sopping hair off their forehead. It’s been what, three, four days since their last shower? They can’t remember. Thinking about the veins slowly writhing and crawling under their skin has been enough to stop them from stripping down more times now than not.

God fucking dammit.

They’ll break your heart.

Their hands, resting on the back of their neck, ride up on a brief swell of artificial muscle. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? They’ll break your heart. How the hell would he know? Motherfucker. Now there was a legitimate worry - Ben cornering Soul and giving them more ideas about what to expect from hanging out with Jin. Most of which weren't even real. Or true.

Shut up. Don't say my name like that.

Jin slaps a gob of soap in their hair and and works it into a disgruntled lather.

Jin, duck!

“Fuck off, asshole,” says Jin, but it comes out a gurgle as their mouth fills with sudsy water. They tilt their head all the way back and let the spray beat down into their open mouth until they can’t taste the suds anymore.
For a prompt on Tumblr. Ben is my dm Evan's character; this piece of writing is dm-approved.
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