yikes // yikes // yikes // yikes // yikes // yikes // yikes
Returning from the Climb seemed far easier than trekking out towards it, even with the winding tunnels, even with trudging through Halo. Perhaps it was the fact that they hadn't detoured this time, that they'd come straight home, instead of stepping into the grounds, or perhaps it was just sickness, washing away any struggles they may have stumbled over.
Nate has been... strange, in a way, since they've come home. Quieter, thoughtful, and sinking deeper into the embrace of delusions, swaddled up tightly and spoon-fed delusions until there's nothing else. It's late now, dark and quiet, and as much as he wants to be upstairs, wants to be in bed with his husband, he can't manage it, can't force that stillness. He won't leave the boxing ring, not again, but he will be restless within it.
At the moment, he's pacing around the edges of the large main floor, shuttering windows and locking them, double, triple checking before he moves onto the next. Voices whisper from just outside, tempting him, trying to trick him into the dark, and Nate won't stand for it, can't. He refuses. Pemota drifts in a lazy circle around him, her light enough to keep him safe, barely, but the danger is lurking in every corner, and he has to finish this.
The door is overlooked, for whatever reason, less important than the windows. Moonlight floods in through it, making any creeping shadows obvious. Nothing will sneak up on him through the door.
Nate has been... strange, in a way, since they've come home. Quieter, thoughtful, and sinking deeper into the embrace of delusions, swaddled up tightly and spoon-fed delusions until there's nothing else. It's late now, dark and quiet, and as much as he wants to be upstairs, wants to be in bed with his husband, he can't manage it, can't force that stillness. He won't leave the boxing ring, not again, but he will be restless within it.
At the moment, he's pacing around the edges of the large main floor, shuttering windows and locking them, double, triple checking before he moves onto the next. Voices whisper from just outside, tempting him, trying to trick him into the dark, and Nate won't stand for it, can't. He refuses. Pemota drifts in a lazy circle around him, her light enough to keep him safe, barely, but the danger is lurking in every corner, and he has to finish this.
The door is overlooked, for whatever reason, less important than the windows. Moonlight floods in through it, making any creeping shadows obvious. Nothing will sneak up on him through the door.
NATE
