Unpromised Home

the swing of life

'in which winter sets in'

"[Name]!" You toss the covers of the hotel bed over your face, rolling onto your side, "Quit being difficult!"

"You could stand to be more difficult..." You mumble staring out of a crack in the bedsheets at the nightstand, "You slept in a chair last night."

"I've slept in worse."

"I'm sure you have..." You groan as California tears the warm covers off you once more. With great and dramatic effort you sit up in the bed. The state tosses some bundle of fabric at you before disappearing into the bathroom.

"You're acting like a child." She calls, as you examine your jacket. The collar was free from blood, and the few things that you held in your pockets were still there. "How old are you anyway?"

"Uhh..."

"You haven't seriously forgotten your own age have you?"

"No!" You scoff defensively, glaring down at the carpeted floor, "It's just to early to think!"

"Right, whatever." California shakes her head as she exits the bathroom. She bends down, rummaging through her brown bag. After what looks like a moment of frustration, she pulls out a clean blazer and slides it over her arms as she stands up.

You watch as she quietly patters around the room, collecting her belongings and tossing them in her bag. She disappears into the bathroom again and comes out with her assortment of toiletries. Placing those down, she glances over her shoulder at the dirty blazer that lies abandoned on the back of the armchair. Her nose wrinkles as she pulls it toward her, folding it so the sleeves rest on the inside of the jacket. Then she places the folded blazer inside the bag, zipping it closed.

"You're leaving...?" The question comes out as little more than a mumble. California tosses the bag onto the bed as you lace your ankles together.

"Yeah... At noon" She ties her white hair back into her usual low bun. She looks at you for a moment, placing her hands on her hips in contemplation. "But... I don't see why you couldn't come with me. You don't want to be here. America doesn't want you here. So..." She lets out a sigh, taking a seat at the end of the mattress. You bounce slightly at your end due to the force. California crosses one leg over the other and leans back onto the bed. "If you want to of course. Maybe we could even work something out to get you back home."

"That would be nice."

"I guess that's decided then!" She hops off the bed again, shifting her weight to the left as she turns to face you, "We do have to stop by the office quickly though... But you can just wait in the same office from yesterday, so you don't have to go upstairs or anything." She waves one of her hands dismissively as a strained look appears on her face. You glance down to the floor.

"Yeah... That's fine..."  Your fists clench. Tightly you grip the fabric of your jacket. Your bruised arm aches in protest. It may not be as fine as you claimed.

"[Name]..." California lets out a loud sigh, "You still haven't told me how... how you got injured."

"He tripped me..."

"You got the bruise from that too?"

"No." Your grip on your jacket loosens. Your focus shifts to the glasses sitting on the nightstand. You forgot you had been carrying them around. Yesterday was such a mess, you could hardly recall what you did beyond throwing the plant at America. You had an argument with Tennessee shortly before that you think. And then there was the conversation with California after that... But beyond those, you could hardly remember.