alignment [frankel] {blitz}

So it seems my writer has had a change of heart. Has my tale somehow become a romance? Jason Matheson, a new character in my life, an unlikely lad. If someone read about how we met, they would never have guessed us to both be with each other. Gosh, my life has some twists. Maybe it is a romantic thriller?

But then that means there will be a tragic ending…

Tragedy latches onto me like a shadow; it’d be surprising if this didn’t end up collapsing like the trees that suffocate me around this District. And now here I am, forced out of the house, with a destination on my mind. I am actually willingly heading somewhere, by my own accord. His house. I don’t know what that means, but I hope the setting that my writer has chosen is a dull one.

My knuckle taps on the door. I don’t think I have ever knocked on a door before. Do I knock hard? Do I have to knock to a certain rhythm? How long am I meant to knock for? My hand unconsciously knocks for a long time; it still knocks when Jason swings open the door and says my name.

I drop my hand, the blood in my body retreating straight to my cheeks. ”Oh, hello Jason.”

Silence falls like avalanche onto the pair of us; my writer is taking too long to decide what dialogue comes next. I have noticed their laziness, my writer’s, they must not be used to their main character actually being active. Their creative buzz must have dried out, that is why I am stood here with no motion or a word to slip through my lips. A freeze frame in time as me and Jason do not even flinch in the seconds that feel like hours.

"Come in, I'm glad you came," And everything starts to begin to move again as I follow Jason’s cue and step into his house. It is nothing like the Summit house, this setting is far more welcoming than that dull prison. His fingers entwine into my only hand, awkwardness falling upon me as it does. He found out about the whereabouts of my missing hand, it is hard to hide a missing limb from someone. "Did you want something or-?"

I look to him, dead into his eyes. What a stupid question. Biting my bottom lip, I conjure up an equally as stupid response. ”Well to see you of course.” Who else?