Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The Blacksmith and The Bookworm (1x1)

She didn't turn around or speak. Roisin stayed still, lowering the hatchet. She wanted to call him out, apologize, and beg him to stay. Yet didn't. Once she felt he was far, Roisin turned around. The hatchet was no longer in a throwing motion. She cursed under her breath as she went inside the cabin.

Jude glanced back once as he walked away, but it was before Roisin turned around. He kept going, slow and careful, until he got back to his temporary home. He was very late to work, but he could spare a few more minutes. With a heavy heart, he took off his new prosthetic and set it carefully on the bed. He simply didn't have it in him to wear it right now. Not with everything that had happened. He got his old leg, put it on, and took a few deep breaths to push down everything he was feeling. No matter what was going on in his life, people were depending on him to work. He only had three days before he had to leave. He needed to do what he could while he could. He headed to work, walking more slowly than usual.

Two days had passed, and Roisin only went to her cabin and to the tavern. She didn't accept any new projects or requests. All she did was look at the blueprint of the leg she made. Roisin even found herself craving wood into Jude's face. This upset her, hurt like hell. It was late at night when she learned today was his last day from Archer. She was drunk at this point and nearly choked on her alcoholic beverage. Roisin demanded to learn where Jude stayed.

Archer gave her the address and tried to give her advice, but she had already run out by then. Roisin ran and ran; occasionally tripping and once faceplanting. This didn't stop her, however; she kept going until she made it there. Without hesitation, she knocked on the door rapidly. Roisin's thought process was juggling between many factors. She thought of apologizing. Maybe confessing. Perhaps spilling everything about herself. It was simply unorganized, something usual.

When the door opened, she looked at him, out of breath. "Jude," Roisin said, breathless. She had dirt on her face and clothes. Her hand was still wrapped up, and a bloody nose. Her hair was a mess, and her eyes were frantic and glassy. It was clear that Roisin had been a mess since that day.