C-4, I do that damage—My ego is titanic
A fragile smile fits into place at her gratitude, a sliver of his anxiousness easing. Maybe on a different day she would have said more, shined with delight, even offered to drink it together then and there, but today he's met with short words and folded arms. On instinct he wants to sprinkle in some humor or charm, anything that might crack through some of this frost and return the warm, bright smile he remembers so fondly. It's not his job to make her lighter anymore though. In fact he rather thinks he's come here to do quite the opposite, no real other way about it. Since it seems she's short on time and patience, he won't draw this out longer than he needs to—it'll be worse for both of them anyway if he does.
She drops the other letters of his name this time, but he can't quite tell if it's from familiarity or efficiency now. He hands find the edge of the bar, palms pressing around it, fingers fluttering over the cool top. "Sorry I didn't come to see you sooner, like I said," he starts. The fragile smile grows just a touch with the sincerity of it, though it tilts faintly at the end as the reality of why pricks through. "I actually, uh, ended up moving here." He glances at her, sheepish, knowing the news should’ve been cause for celebration between friends. "Took longer to get settled than I thought, and I’ve been running up to Stormbreak to help when I can." Excuses, explanations, all just glinting distractions really from the heart of the matter. Turns out it's harder to march up to this cliff edge than he thought, especially for someone used to living on a floating city. Not because he's not sure about stepping to it, but because he doesn't want to wound her. He has never wanted that.
His fingers still, pressing harder into the counter like it might hold him steady. He can hear his pulse in his ears as if he's got his head right on the shore. He can feel the creep of something surging up through him with a tingle. Not quite nausea, not yet anyway, just the adrenaline of admitting to disappointing her, again. "Even so," he continues, his voice staying more even than he expected. "I’m not really gonna be able to come by all the time like I planned." He holds her steady in the amber of his gaze, despite wanting to look anywhere else, somewhere safer than the crease of confusion or the dip of a frown that he anticipates.
The words he’s been circling squeeze in on his chest, then spill out in one breath. "I started dating Flora." Voice to hear concerns, a truth even he never expected. Finally saying it rips off the band-aid he'd been tugging at, and his shoulders loosen with the weight of it put down. "So I don’t…I can’t see us staying friends. Not after what we were." It's everything she'd once asked of him, that he said he couldn't do, but is now offering to Flora without hesitation.
She drops the other letters of his name this time, but he can't quite tell if it's from familiarity or efficiency now. He hands find the edge of the bar, palms pressing around it, fingers fluttering over the cool top. "Sorry I didn't come to see you sooner, like I said," he starts. The fragile smile grows just a touch with the sincerity of it, though it tilts faintly at the end as the reality of why pricks through. "I actually, uh, ended up moving here." He glances at her, sheepish, knowing the news should’ve been cause for celebration between friends. "Took longer to get settled than I thought, and I’ve been running up to Stormbreak to help when I can." Excuses, explanations, all just glinting distractions really from the heart of the matter. Turns out it's harder to march up to this cliff edge than he thought, especially for someone used to living on a floating city. Not because he's not sure about stepping to it, but because he doesn't want to wound her. He has never wanted that.
His fingers still, pressing harder into the counter like it might hold him steady. He can hear his pulse in his ears as if he's got his head right on the shore. He can feel the creep of something surging up through him with a tingle. Not quite nausea, not yet anyway, just the adrenaline of admitting to disappointing her, again. "Even so," he continues, his voice staying more even than he expected. "I’m not really gonna be able to come by all the time like I planned." He holds her steady in the amber of his gaze, despite wanting to look anywhere else, somewhere safer than the crease of confusion or the dip of a frown that he anticipates.
The words he’s been circling squeeze in on his chest, then spill out in one breath. "I started dating Flora." Voice to hear concerns, a truth even he never expected. Finally saying it rips off the band-aid he'd been tugging at, and his shoulders loosen with the weight of it put down. "So I don’t…I can’t see us staying friends. Not after what we were." It's everything she'd once asked of him, that he said he couldn't do, but is now offering to Flora without hesitation.
Kaisel
I woke up in self-destruction mode—Watch me go, I'ma do it again
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
