Noe
It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me
At teatime, everybody agrees
At teatime, everybody agrees
Vox could hear everything. Could he read her mind? Did he feel the way her own heart fractured in her chest as she watched the eldritch horror - all tentacles and eyes in her tainted vision - and thought back to the friendship they’d shared? Did he know how frequently she’d wondered, over the past days, how much of it had been real?
Could he sense that she missed him?
And that she hated that she missed him?
She swallowed hard as she started the climb, the gear clenched in her fist, its edges cutting into her palm. She focused on that rather than her mental anguish, tightening her grip until she felt blood well up around the gear. And when she reached the top of the Step, she hesitated for the briefest moment, her gaze flickering almost apologetically towards Vox, before yeeting the gear into oblivion.
—-
Noe drops the gear.
Could he sense that she missed him?
And that she hated that she missed him?
She swallowed hard as she started the climb, the gear clenched in her fist, its edges cutting into her palm. She focused on that rather than her mental anguish, tightening her grip until she felt blood well up around the gear. And when she reached the top of the Step, she hesitated for the briefest moment, her gaze flickering almost apologetically towards Vox, before yeeting the gear into oblivion.
—-
Noe drops the gear.
I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
