"....James didn't want to let go, but he knew he had to. He thought that surely, he either looked like an idiot, or a needy person who likes to cling to others and annoy them. He let go of Brian's sleeve with a very slow hand, like he wasn't sure if he would completely let go, but he did. When he was asked about his skin again, He looked up at Brian, at his face. ".....I... should see..." He said sparingly, and headed towards the bathroom. Once inside, he looked at himself in the mirror and frowned a little. He was indeed pale, and skinnier than he remembered. "...." he felt like he was too. His face was pale, and his eye sockets dark. James didn't like this, and took a step back from his reflection, like it might jump out and hurt him.
James had looked at his face with a sort of disdain, and he suddenly remembered why he hated it. It was the face of pain, of anger, hate and sadness. The look of guilt. That's what it was, that missing feature, guilt. He was guilty, no doubt about it, and he hated himself so much that he didn't even want to look at himself. He covered his face with his hands, almost clawing at it like he wanted to get it off and away from him, but he knew he couldn't. He could feel the skin under his fingertips, the beating of his pulse on his wrist, which was increasing more and more, and the hatred crawling its way back up his throat, choking him. He became frightened. Frightened and scared. Of who? Himself. He was afraid of himself, and in that moment, he peeked through he fingers that covered his face and saw someone terrifying looking back at him. James yelled, and took another step back, tripping on the ledge and falling into the still-wet tub with a loud "thud". He hit his head on the back tile harshly, but not hard enough to knock himself unconscious. His breaths were fast and short, like he was afraid and had seen a ghost, but it was only his reflection...."
Jude's shaky breath filled the quiet space around him, and he closed the book slowly. The story was quickly moving him to tears, and he needed to stop soon so that he didn't start crying right then and there. It was incredible, the power of a book. Immersing you in a world you never thought you could imagine. Sometimes, it almost felt too real, and that's when Jude knew he had to stop. He was getting too emotionally attached to this character, because he saw himself in James. Funny, only a minute ago he was frowning at the subtle rain that poured against James's window.
With a few controlled huffs, Jude closed his eyes and calmed down. He held the book close to his chest before putting it back in it's place, right next to the other spines of romance novels. He made a note to himself never to pick that book back up, but knew damn well that he would be back shortly, begging himself to continue on where he left off. He needed to know what would happen, even if it made him cry. He needed to know the end, be it good or bad. It was refreshing in a way, forgetting his own feelings and picking up anothers. He loved it, loved saddening himself by feeling others emotions. He was addicted to this pain, in a sad, masochistic way that made him happy. Even if nobody understood, Jude would always (somewhat) understand himself, and seek out this pain.
Right now was not the time to read romance novels though. Sure, he didn't have any courses today, but he still had things he needed to do. A list of grocery shopping, laundry and finishing unpacking weighed in over his head. They may have seemed unimportant to him at the moment though, because all he could do was wander over to his small window and peer out at the street below. He was a naturally curious boy who followed what his heart said.
'Today is a new day. I can finally be on my own.. take care of myself without depending on others..' The small hint of a smile tugged at his reddish lips, and he watched the people pass by. '....I can do whatever I want....' His glee caused the smile to spread, and he quickly pulled on his long black overcoat. He was free to do what he wanted now, which in the spur of the moment meant going outside. On his way he grabbed his wallet and phone, then headed out the door.
That sudden spark of inspiration was stifled though when his key wouldn't turn in the doorway. No matter what he tried, it just wouldn't turn, and if it wouldn't turn then Jude couldn't lock his door. It wasn't like he was afraid of someone breaking in but... he was afraid of someone breaking in. He just moved in, he didn't need a robbery to send him back to poverty and moving from roommate to roommate. Now, not only did the key not turn, but it wouldn't come out of the socket! He kept pulling and turning, hoping to at least get if free from the old lock mechanism inside. After several minutes of trying, he exhaled a heavy sigh and slumped against the door. His back leaned against the white wood and he frowned, not knowing what to do. This was quite the predicament. Perhaps he could look up a solution on his phone, or if worse came to worse, ask the landlord for help.
The mere thought of it made him shiver, as the landlord didn't quite like him. Jude barely scraped by, which meant that he was constantly being kept an eye on. He was innocent, but apparently there was something suspicious about his "comings and goings." It was simply nothing more than the fact that he was a college student. The landlord would just have to deal with him, and keep collecting payments each month until he could move out again.
Those thoughts did nothing but make him more despaired though, and Jude huffed in defeat. A little silver key kept him from running out into the somewhat nice streets of Paris, from the lovely smell of fresh-baked bread and acid-rain-washed old buildings. If was humiliating in a way, that an object so small defeated him in the simplest of tasks. Still, he would rather it be stuck than gone altogether. Now that would be bad.
"Coincé dans un trou de serrure... coincé dans un trou de serrure..." He repeated, stating his dilemma. The hushed lonely hallway of the long corridor was filled with sunlight, and Jude sighed once more, mind drawing a blank on what to do. He just sat there, frowning and sighing and trying to imagine what the landlord would say to him if they found out. Bad things, probably.
He would figure something out.
