esmarie marks was, objectively, and subjectively the best friend you could ask for. she was patient, a babe, and generally a pleasure to be around-- you'd never think she was in the process of being clubbed over the head by her college course choices from a glance, anyway.

she was lovely to look at; her eyes were like pennies that had been oxidized, and her skin constantly fluctuated between a freckled american girl doll tan and an ashy tim burton beige depending on how much sunlight she got, like a neglected plant.

but that wide, doelike gaze was now focused solely on you as you sobbed on her couch; an utter mess of a person, to be frank.

"there, there, sweetheart." esmarie mused sympathetically, a slight, lopsided grin quirking her lips as she rubbed your shoulder, and you could feel her various black rings through the fabric of your sweater, like little droplets of morning dew. she was the only person that ensured your ranting did not become anecdoche "men aren't worth shit and-- well, unless they were a woman, because women are worth shit, but i digress."

you had been dumped, but that was as far as her sentient knowledge on the whole ordeal could span; she wasn't aware your partner existed till about a week ago when you let it slip in a conversation with her and willow hales that yes, you were dating someone, and your cancellations of hangouts were not to dwale.

which now was a bit of a sore subject, and the only detail that made her refrain from laughing at your expense. you were her best friend, and she was supportive, but in her defence, the whole thing was humorous if you looked at it through the correct lens.

"i'm not laughing at you." she added with a smart little shrug, offering you another one of her printed flower napkins-- she'd run out of tissues, unfortunately. the college student budget was inhumane. "i'm sure it's a tragedy, yes, but maybe it was for the best. i can't gauge the level of asshole you're dealing with, however, so don't take my word for it, doll."