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formicineYesterday when she'd found out he was gone, and the night before -- maybe for weeks really, when Blue had thought about Gansey and the probability that he wasn't going to wake up -- she had felt a strange sort of nothing. Where before she'd sat in what was Adam's bedroom (now, soon, it would be something else to someone else) with Copper and the rats, crying and trying desperately to grapple with being the last one still in Hywel, now there's a stillness that doesn't bring tears. She goes to work, and gets through the day, and finishes going through some of the things she has yet to do.
Maybe it was that she'd grieved Gansey then, a little, along with the rest of them. Like somehow, she'd known, or they couldn't all be separated. Some part of her had been able to cry about Noah better then, too, she knows.
But it's not the whole of it. The empty resignation would be all right, maybe, but she feels like something's biding its time. When she gets up in the morning, it feels like she's wrapped in cotton balls, like there's a thick layer between her and everything else, slightly unable to touch anything. It's not the first time, definitely not in the last couple of weeks, but as she goes through the day it starts to curdle, starts to twist.
That's how she finds herself knocking at Tris's door, as the sun draws long shadows out: half too-still and half burning at the edges. Maybe Tris isn't home, or she won't want to do anything unplanned, but Blue thinks she'll get it.
Maybe it was that she'd grieved Gansey then, a little, along with the rest of them. Like somehow, she'd known, or they couldn't all be separated. Some part of her had been able to cry about Noah better then, too, she knows.
But it's not the whole of it. The empty resignation would be all right, maybe, but she feels like something's biding its time. When she gets up in the morning, it feels like she's wrapped in cotton balls, like there's a thick layer between her and everything else, slightly unable to touch anything. It's not the first time, definitely not in the last couple of weeks, but as she goes through the day it starts to curdle, starts to twist.
That's how she finds herself knocking at Tris's door, as the sun draws long shadows out: half too-still and half burning at the edges. Maybe Tris isn't home, or she won't want to do anything unplanned, but Blue thinks she'll get it.