#traumatized from the incident and the sensation it makes my skin crawl again

[somewhereincairparavel]

i hate insects simply because of how much they get into my personal space, i was laying on the couch with my legs dangling and felt an insect crawl up, I shook it off and i saw that it was either a fucking roach or a huge fucking moth (I didn't have my glasses on) like you had the WHOLE hallway to yourself why are you flying up into my personal space u lil shit like are my legs the only place u know, worst part I was wearing SHORTS so it crawled up my bare legs ew

[armariafm]

It is a struggle to read what he signs. She is so out of practice that the only thing she manages to get out of the sentence is 'I' and 'up'. It's enough to let her know his intentions. For that at least she is grateful. Armaria didn't know what would happen if she had went down as he had decided to come up. Missing each other like ships in the night. Not being there again wasn't an option. It would have ruined whatever chance of reconciliation that existed.

Scarred hands wring together over and over, irritating the still sensitive skin. After almost 17 months its not so bad now, things don't hurt the way that they used to. Grabbing objects is easier and her fingers are less clumsy. Still, the healed skin was still fresh, and too much stimulation to it could cause tingling. The wait for him to come to her felt like an eternity. Each minute second passed in a slow agony that made her insides crawl. Suddenly she felt nauseaus. But then he was there. In front of her. With the familiar movements of his hands. To watch it is a sensation not unlike beginning to re-read a well-loved novel.

"I am fine." Mars' signing was clumsy so she took care to try and make her pronunciations clear when she spoke. Experience told her he would not be able to hear her, but they had always managed to communicate well enough in environments like this before. Even if now there was a certain layer of awkwardness to it. A barrier erected by her absence of over a year. "I'm always emotional now it seems. Kind of like how it is when you're pregnant. Only there's no baby." A wet chuckle is released from her at the her lame attempt at humor. She reaches up to wipe her eyes, the back of her hands doing their best to clear her face of tears.

Armaria wants to step forward, to grab his hand and hold on tight. Yet she recognizes that right now isn't about her. There had been 15 months for her to sort out her feelings. To come part of the way back to herself, as much as she could after such a traumatic incident. To realize that she had made a mistake in withdrawing from all the people she loved but most especially the one who had always held a special place in her heart. If they cut her open Mars swore there would be a miniature Harley sized hole right in the center of it. He, however, had not had such a luxury. Armaria didn't know what his emotions had been when she ghosted them, but she guessed not pleasant. "Don't worry about me. How are you?" The next thing she signed as she spoke was the most important. "I'm sorry. There are no excuses for what I did. You were my friend. I should not have abandoned you."

There were no excuses. No frills to spin her actions into something understandable. What she had done warranted anger and resentment and Mars was prepared to take her lumps. Grovel if needed and do anything she could to make things right.

✿ ☀ ✿ ☀ ✿

When Trisha invited Harley over for a party, he didn't think it'd be anything crazy. A few girls from the cheer squad, maybe (usually Harley would protest being lumped in with 'the girls', but he wasn't comfortable with being singled out as the only guy either. So this was the agreed upon terminology for their old friend group). What Trisha failed to mention was that it wasn't just a small girls' night. This was a full blown house party. It felt a little high school to Harley, but he made himself an involved mixed drink and got far away from the alcohol station as he could before anyone who recognized him from Reef Bar could ask him to play bartender on a night he wasn't getting paid to do so.

This party felt so high school, which was very surreal for Harley. He was a completely different person now, inside and out. There were a lot of people he hadn't seen since he graduated that didn't even realize it was him. "One person even said to him that they used to know someone else who looked a lot like him and had cochlear implants, but she was studying art in New York now. You look a lot like this girl I went to high school with, she had cochlear implants too! was the funniest reaction he got from someone so far tonight. It was like he was reliving high school, but in a parallel universe where he'd been able to be himself five years ago.

The last person he expected to see was Mars. They hadn't spoken in over a year, and last he'd heard she was still in Los Angeles. Trisha said nothing about inviting her to the party. She was clueless about the drama that had happened between the two of them following Amaria's accident. So when Harley felt someone's eyes on him and looked up, he was surprised to find Mars staring back down at him. She signed his name, looking dramatically at him. For a moment, he wondered if he could convince his ride home to leave so early. But then he looked up and noticed she was crying. Shit. As much as he wanted to take off, he couldn't leave her like that. After taking a deep breath, he signed to her. "I'm coming up."

It only took a couple minutes to get to the balcony, but it felt like a lifetime. There were so many people to get through, really bad music playing slightly too loud to have a conversation over it (even for hearing people, but even more so for him), and the feeling that she would be gone when he got up there. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Part of him hoped she wouldn't be on the balcony. That she would leave without a trace the way she had done to him fifteen months ago. He'd been upset for over a year now and just trying to push it down because she wasn't here anymore and there was nothing to do with that feeling. He didn't know how to deal with it or how he'd react to her. But then part of him felt guilty for hoping not to deal with his former friend. The biggest part of him, the part that had him going to see her before he could talk himself out of it, was the part that was worried about her.

By the time they were in the same space again, he didn't feel anything at all. And he had no idea what to say. He stared at her for several seconds, trying to piece together something. He wanted to ask how long she had been back, or get mad at her for being the one who got to cry now (even though he rarely got mad at anyone), or ask what he had done wrong to make her hate him in the first place. But she was crying, and he needed to address that first. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" He caught himself signing along with the words, but made mental note to drop the signing when he spoke next. It felt uneasy knowing their big fight started because she couldn't sign with her injuries.