"But I don't get it Grims..."
The soft sound of her protest was muffled as she eyed herself in the full length mirror before her. Her skirt wasn't
that short, well not all the time it wasn't. Her head peeked out around the corner so she could stare at her best friend. "You can not!" How dare he say he could see her underthings? There was always an acceptable amount of coverage when she could afford to allow it. Her arms rose to cross over her chest as the stick from the sucker twirled between her lips. She had never been so appalled, well maybe she wasn't that appalled. Grims had to know it was her identity, the only piece of herself she felt in control of.
"Fine, party pooper. Shorts, this time."
She basically floated away to change her skirt with a pair of black shorts that fell at the same length, only they provided the added coverage Grims had mentioned she was lacking before. Her white tank top was fixed before she pull on a half jacket that had been resting on the bed. Bright pink gym shoes carried her out to Grisha where she took the time to spin for him. "See, all covered up!" Her hair bounced as she clapped with excitement. Somewhere deep down she was nervous, or she could only assume that was what she was feeling. She hadn't been sure what any of the feelings she had been feeling meant since gaining her freedom. This bone man had saved Grims, had given her family to come back to. He was owed her thanks for that.
She had never thought of how she would have responded if Grisha had been lost to her when she had left Azkaban. She had never considered her life without him, even while locked away with no way of knowing if he was dead or alive. Her mind was filled with so many thoughts as they made their way into the establishment. The trip there had been a blur, as her mind had been on meeting this mysterious man and how he had changed the life of her friend. She had heard the rumors and the hushed conversations surrounding the man. She had heard he was as tall as a giant and as strong as one too. She had heard that he had been hand picked by the devil himself to show the world that being bad could be a good thing. The rumors intrigued her, but she was more drawn by how close this man was to her Grims
Small fingers drummed on the bar as she found a seat, Grims had vanished into one of the back rooms. Her eyes roamed the room and she reached into the purple bag hanging from her wrist to grab a new sucker. Tossing the half eaten one from her mouth in an empty glass next to her she rose to walk across the room to stand in front of the fire place. Grims was different now, but in a way that made her worry less. He seemed more confident than usual, more settled. Briefly, she wondered if this world had become his family while she had been away. She wondered where she would fit now.
She had thought that Azkaban had broken her, destroyed what small bits of sanity she'd had left. Maybe she was right, maybe it had beaten the fight from her. Maybe she had lost herself to the sorrow and despair, left bits of her soul locked away when she stepped back out into the world. Where would she find her place now? How would she find her place when she had no idea who she was anymore? She was afraid that somehow she would continue to still be the lost soul in search of something. What she was hoping to find, if there was anything out there worth searching for?
@Medusa let me know if you need more to work with
