Naji's Body Relaxes Almost Imperceptibly As The Familiar Voice Hits His Ears , The Sight Of Major's Face
naji's body relaxes almost imperceptibly as the familiar voice hits his ears , the sight of major's face clear in his hazy vision after he gets in a few hard blinks. the initial burn of irritation that has him clenching his jaw fades away , replaced with a feeling that's caught halfway between relief and embarrassment. the hand brushing at his temple slips down to rub his jaw , and he rolls his eyes — even in his drunken state he knows it's an affectionate action more than an irritated one — stepping further out into the hallway to join major where he's standing. " man , you scared the shit outta me , " he groans , even though they both likely know ' scared ' isn't the most appropriate word. naji has always been the type to come out fists swinging , and had it been an annoying stranger instead of the bassist , the conversation would've ended in a verbal or physical scuffle. tentatively , and after a minute of trying to make out the label , naji reaches out to take the gatorade from him. it's a sight for sore eyes , practically glistening under the party lights. " thanks , though — couldn’t pay me to touch that jungle juice. four loko was bad enough , maj. "
he shrugs as he twists the cap of the bottle off , hoping the words come off as nonchalant , but there’s an exhaustion somewhere in his voice. " was tryna hide out in the bathroom — " okay , he's chatty now , maybe that'll be a reminder to have fewer drinks next time. " — but clearly that isn't gonna work. know any good hiding places ? "
Sometimes throwing parties felt like being part of the babysitter’s club, or some shit – not that Major had ever babysat in his fuckin’ life! Nobody had ever been desperate enough to hand him a whole ass kid. He didn’t have enough family to make the whole, ‘little cousins running around the trailer park,’ thing a stereotype that applied. Major figured, though, that after seeing some of his bandmates lick down a drink or two, he might be able to put it on a resume. Major feats in daycare – who’d have thought?
“Yoooo, what’s all that noise?” His tone is false exasperation as soon as it leaves his lips – lightweight. Fun, and funny, and all that good shit: least he hoped that’s how it was all coming off. Major didn’t wanna overthink it, though; didn’t really wanna think on it at all! So he handed over the bottle of Gatorade he had in his baseball glove of a hand – the only unspiked shit he could fuckin’ find in the fray of the party. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, huh? I’m just out here lookin’ out for you, and shit, baby boy.”
"You get into that Jungle Juice? Cuz, for the record - this is why I tell everyone to bring their own shit. Ain't no party like a rat loft party, because these guys don't give a fuck."
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he noticed the staring long ago. how could he not ? it's as brazen as everything else the woman does — sharp , like a silent dare , a challenge in the air like she's looking just to see if he'll offer his gaze back. ( he doesn't. ) instead , naji ignores her for the time being , shadow falling behind flickering lights , half - swallowed by the dark and half - swathed in neon pink. a cigarette burns low between his fingers — should he go outside ? he's deciding — but it does nothing to fight the perpetual scowl that is twisted onto his lips , even as he lifts it up again to take a drag. he's got an air about him that screams leave me alone , and , on a normal day , most people catch on quick. ( it is important to note , then , that he knows juno zhang is not 'most people'. ) her gaze sticks like static , and so does his bleary memory of last night , the wild woman on his doorstep and asking to stay like he's her last resort. less than twenty - four hours ago was when naji learned he can't say no to her , and , already it's proving to make things difficult. he knows this even as she approaches , brash and barefoot , bringing all her wit and audacity with her. the scowl twists deeper at her tone , eyebrows knitting together. the teasing otherwise rolls off his shoulders , but it does something strange , somewhere deep , just enough to make him wonder why she cares to notice what he's doing at all. his eyes fixate somewhere to her left , and he leans back further agains the wall. don't look chaos in the eye , that's not good for you. " hmm. " a noncommital grunt , like he isn't buying into her taunt. " where the fuck did you leave your shoes ? " he pauses again. " you wanna talk about being 'lost', yeah? " the implications of that are clear , but he's not insolent enough to bring up the night before. " or just here for a cigarette ? "
𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄, @najiikarim ! 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : major's stinky loft.
the loud and shitty music blasting from the janky speakers and sweaty bodies slamming against her absurdly furry exterior aren’t enough to pull her stabbing gaze away from him ; meticulous examination made all the more obvious by the haze coating her inebriated brain. yes, juno’s never been — and never will be — someone who’s subtle ( because fuck that ), but right now, she’s doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that she’s been staring, staring and staring some more. he seems lonely. he saved you last night. just move. and, like everything she ever does in life, she follows the first impulse that jerks at her bruised heart. wants to thank him, needs to — it’s been a gnawing itch that she hasn’t been able to scratch since stepping out of his home this morning. the altoids tin box that she filled with four hand - rolled joints burning her pocket, a symbol of unspoken gratitude. she can’t stomach the thought of not repaying him ... for some reason. kindness for the sake of being kind is a myth, after all. naked feet — she ditched her heels a while back and didn’t bother looking for them — carry her toward him in all of her messy glory, an inevitable curse. excitement pulses through her veins; this is the closest her prying eyes have been to him the entire night. what a thrill. “ lookin’ a little lost there … ” she says, not meaning to mock, but her words still have a sharp edge to them. “ never been to a party before, roadie ? no one’s gonna jump you. ”
to be fair , naji's not really a happy anything. he's always felt too much or too little , and even tonight he leans towards the former , awkward and messy in a way that he's hoping she won't find pathetic. the word mopey sticks with him , but he's simply amused , the feeling tugging his lips into a reluctant, lopsided smile he has no business letting mabel see. he swears it's the first time he's smiled all night , but hey , she's always carried a kind of warmth with her that's bled into his gloom. " i'm not grumpy all the time — " i'm definitely not grumpy around you. " — and , believe it or not , the eeyore comment is unoriginal. " naji stares at her reflection for a beat longer than he should , alcohol addled senses fixating his gaze there. he swallows , hard. tentative fingers drift to the door handle , rough thumbs brushing over it before the cold metal finally snaps him out of it, naji’s blinking hard like he’s trying to shake off the fog. " maybe i'll get you that shot when you're done. " before he's encouraged to say another drunken word , he pulls the door closed between them , letting the latch click softly into place before he leans against it. the heels of his palms press into his eyes , the pressure sending his vision dark and filled with sprinklings of stars. he's hoping that now — now that mabel's behind a door, where he can’t see her — he might finally be able to get a grip.
in her own defense, mabel isn't completely sure that her pouts work on naji ; there's the sneaking suspicion, yes, and maybe she weaponizes it a lot because she knows it'll work, yes, but she's never been sure. always the gnawing feeling that maybe he's just humoring her, insecurity personified and speaking in the most irritating little voice in her head — if mabel thinks about it too much her stomach hurts. cheeks go pink when she looks at him like this, enough to make her freeze for a sputtering moment before giving up and ducking under his arm to get in. push past him ( ignore the stumbling, she didn't claim to be sober ) and she won't have to look too long. " i don't even have attitude, you're just so grumpy all the time. thought you'd be a happy drunk, you know. " confidence is restored and her tone evens out, gains the little lilt typical of her. mabel's even brave enough to grin at him from the mirror, " awww, you're being so sweet. f'i knew you'd be like this i would've asked you for a shot earlier. " mabel contemplates kicking him out, feels the nerves in waves ; naji's aura was quite blue ( or maybe purple ? ) right now, she wonders if he notices. " mm — actually, i'm fine ! are you okay, though ? you look so ... mopey. like eeyore. " ouch.
“I watched life and wanted to be a part of it but found it painfully difficult.”
— Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934
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najiikarim reblogged this · 6 months ago
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najiikarim reblogged this · 6 months ago
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najiikarim reblogged this · 6 months ago
