this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow
"Be still my heart." It's more a slur than a drawl in his current state, but the humour is hopefully dry enough to still make it through as Sunjata promises to show Niki his intense scars. Slouching back against the pillows enough to half lay down, the necromancer hums his solemn agreement at the Heartless's next point, brows furrowing. "Still a strange feelin' for me sometimes," he admits. "Not bein' alone, I mean. I figured I'd always be that way after Anatolii died."
But then Flora had helped him out, Sunjata had crossed his path, and those friendships had grown and bloomed into other meetings. Niki hasn't even realised he has a social circle yet, but it doesn't make it any less true. His lips part to speak again, but he forgets the words immediately as he glances across to see the Heartless pulling off his shirt. Blinking like he's trying to decide if what he's seeing is real, heat rushes to Niki's cheeks immediately, but the urge to create immediate distance feels far away and unimportant, soaked in liquor.
"You really are beautiful, y'know," he mumbles instead; all silver scars and dark ink and all the casual strength in the world at his disposal.
But then Flora had helped him out, Sunjata had crossed his path, and those friendships had grown and bloomed into other meetings. Niki hasn't even realised he has a social circle yet, but it doesn't make it any less true. His lips part to speak again, but he forgets the words immediately as he glances across to see the Heartless pulling off his shirt. Blinking like he's trying to decide if what he's seeing is real, heat rushes to Niki's cheeks immediately, but the urge to create immediate distance feels far away and unimportant, soaked in liquor.
"You really are beautiful, y'know," he mumbles instead; all silver scars and dark ink and all the casual strength in the world at his disposal.
Niki
i used to have strength but i ran out of hope
