Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
"Around all of it. You, Danta, Charlie - you'll excuse anything, right? No rules, no consequences for anything - I bet there won't be any for you even if what you did came out. Even though a person died. Where does it end? There's no bottom, nothing to stop the fall if I were to slip. And then I'll wake up one day and realize I've become all the things I hate, by which time it will be too late." Getting tired of my own words
Too tired to care if she made sense or not, at least the words spilling from her lips were unadultered truth. A glimpse into the churning mess that was her mental state, gnawing and chewing on the same old worries over and over again. And she was sick of it. Yet she didn't know how to change, how to escape herself.
Tonight in particular, it felt hopeless. When the Dusklight came back into view it seemed less like the home she'd named it to Danta, and more like that cage she dreaded so much. That she returned even though her gut knotted with unease was pathetic. That she had been unable to tear away from the Butcher's shadow was even more so. Was she so desperate for company that she would settle for anyone now? Was a bit of kindness really enough to throw all her values and beliefs down the drain and accept this bullshit nightmare Asta claimed as normal?
Fuck. Gods, how she hated all of it right now. Him, herself, this place and everyone in it.
At least now that they were inside, it didn't matter where she went. "I'll find somewhere else to sleep," she muttered, sure that he was as eager to be rid of her as she was to be away from him.
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
