So Near, So Far

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Barefoot was best for climbing. How did Nyx know? She was out on the side of the house, clinging to the roof and she had made it pretty successfully this far. Nyx would never claim to be scared of heights; at least, as long as she did not look down. Slowly, slowly, one foot in front of the other, sliding her hands along the roof tiles; the vaulted outcrop where the window resided coming closer and closer.

Grasping the edge of the gable, she hauled herself around until she was crouched on the windowsill; peeking through the criss-crossed glass like some impish creature of folklore.
Shoot! He was inside; she had thought he might have stepped out, although presumably then he might have come to find her. She ducked down instinctively, trying to be less noticeable. His back was to her anyway; in fact, was he talking to someone? She couldn't quite see; unfortunately the way he had chosen to decorate the room made it quite dark and gloomy. She couldn't imagine being cooped up in there for days.

But he did seem to be talking to someone; she could tell from his body language, gesturing with his hands as he walked up and down, his posture echoing almost every word as he spoke.

He was talking to himself; he was, she was sure of it. Talking to himself, ranting to himself; arguing with himself. She could see it clearly on him now; the back-ard-forth, changes in his body and the sound of his voice, although she could not make out the words. As she watched, he stopped in front of his clock, looking into the glass. What was going on in his mind? His fingers raked anxiously through his hair, shoulders pulled hunched, hands clutching at his face.

She wasn't sure what caused it; whether she breathed too loud on the window or caused the frame to jolt, but suddenly he turned towards her and she glimpsed, for a moment, his eyes as black as pitch.

But it was just for a moment- so short she couldn't be sure what she had really seen as, in her startlement, she jerked back, the tile cracked beneath her feet... and... she... slipped... from... the... windowsill.

***

"Ow, ow, ow." Sliding open the back doors, Nyx slipped through the back room into the kitchen; that had been a dismal failure. Dirt smudged her clothes and she was picking grass out of her curls. She had been lucky it hadn't been worse.

Trying to act casual, she walked to the kitchen table and leant against it; cringing as she heard the sound of his door opening and his voice shouting down. "You alright? What was that crash?"

"Uh... something fell in the garden." She pointed vaguely with both hands as he appeared in the doorway. "... it was me, I fell in the garden." She tried to put her hand casually on her hip, then winced audibly and shook it out. Okay, so maybe it was a little bit worse.

He glided across the room towards her, softly taking her hand. "Let me have a look." Pale fingers probed along her lower arm, mapping the shape of her bones and noting the places she flinched. Then, he placed a gentle kiss on the skin at her wrist. "I think it's just a sprain." He raised his other hand to her face and touched with his thumb a scratch above her eyebrow she hadn't noticed before. When he pulled it away, a thin drop of red dotted the pad of his finger. "Let's get you cleaned up."

So sorry it's a day late, I got so wrapped up in Uni work! Anyway, I hope you like it. I am wondering if, for these next few weeks, I might change the update schedule to Tuesday, as I seem to have more time then, but we'll see.

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