Neron
the wind breathes lonely
longing to be seen
longing to be seen
Neron lets out an irritated sort of huff as a hand presses to his forehead, though he’s not nearly coordinated enough to be able to stop Chuy from manoeuvring him about. Blinking at the chairs and tables with seemingly fresh eyes, the Hailstorm seems to want to ask who has done something so ridiculous. He stops himself, though, at the worrying realisation that he might have done it himself. Letting out a shaky breath that he absolutely doesn’t need, he sinks into the seat with Chulane’s help, watching him blearily away behind the bar.
”I think I was trying to get somewhere warm,” he says of the arrangement. ”It’s cold here, so if you flip it upside down it should be warm...” It still makes perfect sense to him, in fact, and his brow furrows as he tries in vain to remember why he didn’t believe it was a good idea anymore.
Then there’s a wine bottle in his hand, and he’s uncorking it and taking a long drink, only to wrinkle his nose and set it down on the table. How is he feeling? ”Thirsty,” he tells the other man, reaching out abruptly to knock the wine bottle off the table, letting it smash and send a river of red across the floorboards, which greedily drink it up.
”I think I was trying to get somewhere warm,” he says of the arrangement. ”It’s cold here, so if you flip it upside down it should be warm...” It still makes perfect sense to him, in fact, and his brow furrows as he tries in vain to remember why he didn’t believe it was a good idea anymore.
Then there’s a wine bottle in his hand, and he’s uncorking it and taking a long drink, only to wrinkle his nose and set it down on the table. How is he feeling? ”Thirsty,” he tells the other man, reaching out abruptly to knock the wine bottle off the table, letting it smash and send a river of red across the floorboards, which greedily drink it up.
sometimes the soul
has days like these
has days like these
