Triya & Jet: Early Meeting

[pineaura]

Been writing on and off for so many things this month, but unexpectedly had this urge to write for these two characters. I don't know exactly where this story will go, they're kinda just doing their own thing, but it's been fun spending some time sketching for them in both drawing and writing during times where I should be sleeping.

This by no means is polished, but I need something low pressure in my life so I'm being kind to myself as best as possible with this. I feel like this is a good spot to consider as the first chapter of this journey. I'm hoping the hints are coming across as hints, but I think more about them will be revealed in the future regardless. I hope. v:

Enjoy!

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Triya may have been up at the early hour of two in the morn, not yet able to be asleep like most people would be, but that does not mean she was expecting a knock on her door either. While her neighbours have had moments where they or their friends mistakenly find themselves at her door instead of their own, it’s not exactly common either.

Despite the beating of her heart increasing, she gets up from the table and quietly walks to her front door. When she peeks through the hole, however, it’s not her neighbour nor their little merry band she finds. No, it’s her friend waiting outside.

“Jet?” she softly asks when she opens the door.

He looks like a wet cat that’s been nicked by all the barrels and debris the streets threw haphazardly at.

Jet raises his head up a bit, his eyes just peeking from under the brim of his cowboy hat. His apologetic gaze managing to break through his exhaustion.

“’M sorry. I have nowhere else to go.”

Triya is not about to shun a helpless cat. She opens the door wider, gesturing for him to come in, closing it gently when he makes two uneasy steps inside.

He’s clearly not doing well so she skips to the next relevant question she can think to act on, “Need a doctor?”

“A bed,” he leans on the table she was sitting at moments ago. The way it creaks tells her everything she needs to know about how much he’s relying on it right now.

She’d set up the couch for him if he’d fit on it, so instead she leads him, practically half carrying him like a crutch, to her bed. She barely manages to get him there before he ungraciously plops down on it.

She goes to grab a towel. He’s barely awake when she returns, trying to wipe off what she can.

“Water?”

Heavy lidded eyes finds hers. He can only shake his head with an attempt of what she assumes was meant to be a reassuring smile before he is swiftly carried to dreamland.

There’s no injury Triya can see despite Jet’s rugged appearance. Regardless, she does what little she can.

The towel she holds scrunches between her fingers a moment before it becomes dry. She lays it flat on top of Jet before leaving to grab some blankets to cover him.

When she returns to the room the towel is drenched, but Jet is noticeably much drier (as is the bed beneath him). She grabs the soaked towel, no dripping despite how heavy it is from the water it had gathered. She places it in an open laundry basket, landing with a notable squish, before turning her attention back to the sleeping figure.

Triya carefully places the back of her hand on Jet’s freckled cheek. He’s cold, mostly from being drenched at the cool, rainy hour of two, enough of a reason for her to hold the blankets she’s brought, cradling them to her heart and taking a few slow breaths before the blankets radiate warmth. She unfolds them on top of Jet, grabbing his fallen hat to place on a nearby chair.

She studies him a moment. Counting his steady breathing before eventually she leaves the room.

On the night stand is a glass of water.


Sleep must have found Triya eventually as she wakes up beneath her throw blankets on the couch bleary eyed. When her brain starts to register the sun dancing between the blinds is when she bumbles out of the tangle of her blankets.

Habit has her putting water in the kettle to boil, but her self conscious has her put in more than one cup’s worth.

Tip toeing her way to the bedroom, and stopping at the open door, Triya watches the guest that rests on her bed. He doesn’t seem to have moved last night, everything placed on him the way she left it. The water still full in the glass.

She let’s out a sigh of relief when she can see the gentle movements of breathing from under the blankets.

And with that, she leaves to freshen up as best as she can in the meantime.


When Jet wakes, it’s in the soft warmth of blankets he feels rather comfortable under. They’ve made him forget how much his body aches, that is, until he attempts to move.

The sore muscles help wake him and for a moment he inwardly panics when his eyes don’t recognize where he is. He holds back his groan when he sits up as quietly as his aching body allows, surveying his surroundings.

His hat is neatly placed nearby, but as he thinks to grab it, a flicker of sunlight dances off a glass of water.

Jet stares at it a moment.

Water.

Right. Triya. He’s at Triya’s.

Sitting himself at the edge of the bed he allows himself to grab the glass, somewhat cool to the touch, and drinks. He must have had it particularly rough these past few days, he thinks, as the water feels soothing going down his throat. He drinks every drop.

Jet observes the empty glass in his hand, shifting it softly so that the morning sunlight sneaking past the blinds glimmer in an almost mesmerizing dance off the transparent surface. The way they reflect onto his hand seems playful and warm even if there’s no heat.

He’s not certain how to approach Triya from here. His thoughts refuse to be collected, but the gentle, almost soundless movement outside the bedroom let’s him know she’s up and about. He might as well see how this goes.

Placing the glass down and grabbing his hat, Jet makes for the door. He doesn’t register the ease of his motions, his mind more focused on what awaits him.

The reflection of Jet disappears from the glass’ surface as he leaves the room.


Triya is ruffling about in the kitchen. The kettle has been pressed again as she took a little longer than anticipated to freshen up. She blames the sleep deprivation for making her sluggish. She has some eggs set aside waiting for their turn as she cooks up some bacon and hash browns.

Even though she’s had these ready to cook, intending on enjoying them, they have been sitting in her thinly filled refrigerator for a couple days already. The threat of them eventually going bad is too likely and she knows it, going through this dance too often. She wanted an easy and delicious meal, she grabs food that fits the bill, but then passes each time it comes to making it. “Tomorrow” she’ll tell herself until the food becomes inedible and she chides herself for the waste.

Today, however, she has a guest, a friend. She won’t let them leave without a meal, even if it’s just a simple breakfast. Though perhaps not as simple as it could have been had she been making this just for herself. A friend in need is a friend she’ll do whatever she can for.

She hears his footsteps before he’s present in the room. They’re much lighter this morning, much to her relief.

“Thanks for the water after all,” Jet says, “It was refreshing.”

Triya nods, her back still facing Jet, focusing her movements on the food in front.

“How do you like your eggs?”

There is a pause from Jet, clearly not anticipating the question.

“Surely I dare not trouble you more.”

Triya sets the hash browns aside, off the heat, and moves the bacon into a container filled with some paper towels before reaching for another small pan. The bacon slowly start to drain of their excess grease.

“Scrambled, sunny-side, over-easy, omelette,” she starts listing.

“Ah, well,” he shifts his weight to one leg, “if it’s not too much trouble, sunny would be lovely.”

She cracks the eggs.


It’s not until Triya sets down the food on the table that Jet pulls out a chair to sit. He smiles at her before she turns back to the kitchen. He doesn’t touch the food yet, intending to wait until she joins him.

“I have some tea or hot chocolate – I’m not a coffee person, sorry. Or perhaps more water?”

There’s no point in trying to talk out of troubling her so Jet sets his hat down on the chair’s corner.

He rubs his chin a moment, “Ah, it’s been some time since I’ve had hot chocolate. I’d be happy for a cup.”

Hot water is poured into two cups, stirring the hot chocolate in both to a smooth mixture before she walks over to place them down at the table.

“Thank you,” another smile from Jet, this time Triya nods in return, a soft expression on her face.

They mostly eat in silence, enjoying the meal over having small talk. Triya gets the sense that it’s been ages since Jet last had a warm meal the way he’s going about his food, but she doesn’t want to pry. It’s not too far from the truth (though Jet isn’t about to stop and think about it). It’s an odd thought, for Triya, to have her simple meal be treated like it's delicious to another, so she chooses to avoid thinking about it. Where the thoughts could lead is not something she’s eager to find out.

Instead, she savours the hot chocolate, having finished her plate already. Before her it feels as if there’s a delighted cat, their eyes wide and glistening at the treat in front of them. She hides her smile behind another sip of hot chocolate.

Jet let’s out a contented sigh, sitting back in the chair. He has a wide grin on his face.

“That was good. Thank you!”

When she goes to grab the plates though, Jet places his hand on top of hers.

“Wait. At least allow me to do this,” his eyes pleading at hers.

She picks up the plates anyways.

“Really? Not even one dish?”

Triya, now with her back towards him as she heads back to the kitchen, allows a playful turn of her head, but doesn’t allow him to see her expression. She can almost hear Jet’s pout.

“Do you need anything else? I may still be able to help,” she asks.

Jet let’s out a small, huffed laugh under his breath before he starts getting out of the chair. He grabs his hat, but holds it over his chest.

“Well, I’d enjoy your company towards the door. I’d stay longer, but I’ll be late if I don’t mosey on.”

When Triya turns, she sees him with an apologetic smile. At least this time it’s not coupled with exhaustion. She comes to his side. He playfully let’s out the elbow closest to her. Now it’s Triya’s turn to laugh under her breath, but she holds onto his arm all the same. The apartment isn’t big by any means so the steps are few when they reach the door.

“It’s been a delight, my friend,” Jet says as he let’s go of Triya and places his hat on his head.

“I...,” he starts, but his voice goes soft, “Thank you, Triya. For everything.”

He doesn’t let her grab the door knob first.

“Sorry to have come unexpectedly. I’ll try not to... repeat this.”

Triya studies him a moment.

“As I’ve told you once before, you are welcome here any time.”

Jet returns the look. Something about the way she says things sometimes has him wonder, but he’s not certain if he should let those thoughts wander too far. So instead, he gives her a gentle smile, tips his hat at her, and opens the door. With his back to her, he let’s out a last wave and walks away.

Triya doesn’t close the door until he’s out of her sight.

And then with the soft click of the lock, she rests her head on the front door, closing her eyes. Fatigue rushes in at once and she only has enough time to get to her couch before sleep takes her.