Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
Meeting his gaze in the mirror, Maea could only hold it for a few moments before breaking off and looking down at her knees again. It didn't make her feel any better to know that he had been struggling. Quite the opposite, now she'd added stone to an already burdened person by freezing instead of fighting. And after all her lofty talk about rather dying than giving in - she was so sick of her own hypocrisy that it burned her throat. Getting tired of my own words
"Oh." The tension in him was palpable. Recalling the way he had whispered to the red-haired man as he was led away, Maea bit her lip - and sucked in a hiss of pain as it aggravated the wound. Tasting blood, she debated whether say anything, but decided against it. "Alright. I'll just sleep then, I guess." Slumping down on the blanket, clothes still on, she closed her eyes and fought an overwhelming urge to drift off. But she wasn't going to; if Asta was leaving, she was going too. Whatever was up with him made her worried; it wasn't her usual style to pry, but this time she would make an exception.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
