white_oleander | Room 210; Sunday Evening [12/16].

Just as Astrid expected, it hadn't taken her very long to pack for the next few weeks. It had honestly taken her longer putting together the Secret Santa gift for Paris and dropping it off for her than it did putting the small amount of clothes, the most basic elements of her growing collection of art supplies, and the few bits of Christmas she was smuggling with her to California into her suitcase. She fingered the long sleeves on most of the shirts she'd gotten since moving here, with the intention of staving off the colder New England weather but would now serve to hide her tattoo from being noticed. And then she looked up at her latest painting on the wall, thinking she'd have to change it to something new when she got back. If she got back. And, if they decided it was better for her to stay out west, out in the past, well, then...she had to wonder just how long it would remain up there before someone else moved in and wanted to change it or Sabine just got sick of looking at it herself and took it into her own artistic hands.

She supposed that was the worst part of it, the uncertainty, the not knowing. And the fact that, even though she'd been thinking about this ever since she'd gotten the call from her case worker letting her know that the end of the semester meant her situation was going to be reevaluated, she still didn't know what she would have wanted more.

At the very least, it didn't really matter what she wanted, anyway, since none of it was going to be even remotely up to her. And instead of finding that frustrating, she almost found it a little bit comforting that it was simply out of her control.

[[door and post open!]]