Neron
the wind breathes lonely
longing to be seen
longing to be seen
”Take your hands off me.” The words are icily articulated, and there’s very little recognition in Neron’s eyes as he glares at the man trying to check his temperature and help him to his feet. He tries to shrug Chulane off with all the arrogance of nobility, as if the touch might have devalued his clothes in some way. Of course, he makes it precisely nowhere, on his feet but staggering unceremoniously into the closed door of the Kraai.
That seems to knock some sense into him again, at least, the Hailstorm pinching the bridge of his nose and squinting at his friend, like the twilight of early morning is suddenly too much to bear. ”Chuy?” he murmurs again, like they haven’t literally just had this conversation; whatever shard of the former duke had crept to the surface seems to have bubbled back under again. ”Yes, I think inside would be a good idea.”
He tries to grab the handle of the door twice, succeeding once, and they manage to make it into the Kraai with minimal injuries. Within, for reasons that make sense only to the sick and delusional, Neron has placed all of the chairs upon the tables, and all available glasses and bottles are upside down.
That seems to knock some sense into him again, at least, the Hailstorm pinching the bridge of his nose and squinting at his friend, like the twilight of early morning is suddenly too much to bear. ”Chuy?” he murmurs again, like they haven’t literally just had this conversation; whatever shard of the former duke had crept to the surface seems to have bubbled back under again. ”Yes, I think inside would be a good idea.”
He tries to grab the handle of the door twice, succeeding once, and they manage to make it into the Kraai with minimal injuries. Within, for reasons that make sense only to the sick and delusional, Neron has placed all of the chairs upon the tables, and all available glasses and bottles are upside down.
sometimes the soul
has days like these
has days like these
