KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
How long did he stand outside that door, staring blankly into space before he mustered the courage to step inside? An hour? Three? It had been light in the sky when he arrived, but by the time he stumbled in it was pitch black behind him, and night clung to his bone stiff limbs with fingers of glittering frost. It melted and dripped from unkempt black hair as Korbin slowly moved further into the large room. Every step was agony, and no matter where his gaze fell, it tore out chunks of his heart, so that by the time he reached the bar, he was startled to find he was still standing up. Breathing. Beating with a life that was hollow and pointless.
Korbin always hated this place. First, it had been because it was new. Then, because Weaver loved it more than their old ways. Because she didn't need him when she was master behind this bar. And now... now he hated it because it hadn't kept her safe after all.
Gods, how much it reminded him of her. The colors, the giant hearth, the simple, cozy atmosphere and the rows of bottle glittering behind the counter. They had been sitting here, bantering and making up silly names for her drinks. They had worked together behind the counter, and she had been laughing. Always laughing.
Tears welled unbid into his eyes, and the young man wiped them away quickly, hoping no one had seen. Steeling himself, he nodded to the staff and rounded the counter, to head for the stairs leading up. He had left clothes here, stray items that suddenly had become everything he owned. When he came back down, it was little more than a bundle tucked under an arm.
He paused briefly at the bottom of the stair. As reluctant to leave as he had been to enter. Casting about for an excuse to linger, Korbin let his gaze wander between the guests.
Korbin always hated this place. First, it had been because it was new. Then, because Weaver loved it more than their old ways. Because she didn't need him when she was master behind this bar. And now... now he hated it because it hadn't kept her safe after all.
Gods, how much it reminded him of her. The colors, the giant hearth, the simple, cozy atmosphere and the rows of bottle glittering behind the counter. They had been sitting here, bantering and making up silly names for her drinks. They had worked together behind the counter, and she had been laughing. Always laughing.
Tears welled unbid into his eyes, and the young man wiped them away quickly, hoping no one had seen. Steeling himself, he nodded to the staff and rounded the counter, to head for the stairs leading up. He had left clothes here, stray items that suddenly had become everything he owned. When he came back down, it was little more than a bundle tucked under an arm.
He paused briefly at the bottom of the stair. As reluctant to leave as he had been to enter. Casting about for an excuse to linger, Korbin let his gaze wander between the guests.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
