Thalassa
Asta's voice breaks through the haze, her jaw unclenching in the momentary distraction that might have been a startle if she wasn't so tired. The cacophony of thoughts dim, set behind a shear curtain within view like she's peeked her head back out of a smoke-filled private booth to see what's disturbed her self-loathing.
"I - " she pauses, her gaze refocusing on him. There's comfort to be found in the familiar brown of his eyes that are more grounding than any soil she could sink her feet into, the cocky grin of his shadow like an extra hand rail to guide her. Any arguments die on her lips, tasting bitter against the lingering alcohol on her tongue and the begrudging acceptance that she'll have to face sleep sooner or later. She might as well do so from the comforts of her bed with Asta to lead the charge. And if the morning is too unbearable, she need just seek him out, helping to solidify the decision.
Her head nods slowly in acknowledgement. Thal shifts in the chair, fingers still stubbornly clutched around her necklace. She belatedly realizes that her glass occupies her other hand, her body moving like sludge as she reaches to place it on the side table. Her damp clothes have partially dried, but she doesn't notice the rough scrape of the material, an exhausted kind of numbness having settled in to disconnect her from her limbs.
"I - " she pauses, her gaze refocusing on him. There's comfort to be found in the familiar brown of his eyes that are more grounding than any soil she could sink her feet into, the cocky grin of his shadow like an extra hand rail to guide her. Any arguments die on her lips, tasting bitter against the lingering alcohol on her tongue and the begrudging acceptance that she'll have to face sleep sooner or later. She might as well do so from the comforts of her bed with Asta to lead the charge. And if the morning is too unbearable, she need just seek him out, helping to solidify the decision.
Her head nods slowly in acknowledgement. Thal shifts in the chair, fingers still stubbornly clutched around her necklace. She belatedly realizes that her glass occupies her other hand, her body moving like sludge as she reaches to place it on the side table. Her damp clothes have partially dried, but she doesn't notice the rough scrape of the material, an exhausted kind of numbness having settled in to disconnect her from her limbs.
Walk with me to the end
Stare with me into the abyss
Stare with me into the abyss
