// i saw the walls, finished and plain //
There’s a certain small amount of awareness that the courtesan has in this state – the raucous laughter billowing through the bar, the voices and chattering, the way the air seemed to feel warm and whole and it should be a boon for the courtesan. He should sink into it like a comfortable bed, wrapping himself in it until all the aches and pains went away. He doesn’t, though, just lets the warmth from the alcohol bloom in his chest, in his stomach, lets his head grow heavier on his arm where he’s propped it on the bar.
Fuck, he should’ve gone and showered first then came here. Maybe then it’d look a little less sad if he fell asleep here.
The din of voices and movement are a backdrop to a slowly growing drowsier Thorn, at least until it’s broken up by the double tap he’d know blindfolded. He lifts his head, propping his chin on his arm and looks up to see the glass of cold water – something that would at least keep him awake, hopefully, and he starts to unfold himself to reach for it. “Thanks.” He says again, taking a long slow sip before realizing that Casimir wasn’t running away just yet – instead, quiet and waiting for whatever the courtesan had to offer. “We had t’herd the unicorns for the healin’ river.” He explains, flashing a tired smile as his fingers draw lines in the condensation starting to sweat on the glass.
“I’ve never rode a horse that much before. I’m so fuckin’ tired.” He laughs lightly at himself, dropping his gaze to the glass like it’s a little too much to keep his eyes up high toward Casimir to see his reaction. He’s not sure he wants to see the response yet anyway.
Fuck, he should’ve gone and showered first then came here. Maybe then it’d look a little less sad if he fell asleep here.
The din of voices and movement are a backdrop to a slowly growing drowsier Thorn, at least until it’s broken up by the double tap he’d know blindfolded. He lifts his head, propping his chin on his arm and looks up to see the glass of cold water – something that would at least keep him awake, hopefully, and he starts to unfold himself to reach for it. “Thanks.” He says again, taking a long slow sip before realizing that Casimir wasn’t running away just yet – instead, quiet and waiting for whatever the courtesan had to offer. “We had t’herd the unicorns for the healin’ river.” He explains, flashing a tired smile as his fingers draw lines in the condensation starting to sweat on the glass.
“I’ve never rode a horse that much before. I’m so fuckin’ tired.” He laughs lightly at himself, dropping his gaze to the glass like it’s a little too much to keep his eyes up high toward Casimir to see his reaction. He’s not sure he wants to see the response yet anyway.
Hawthorn
// lavender blooms on the ink of my name //
