you wouldn't even recognize me anymore
not that you knew me back then
“ ‘M Wessex.” wide, light blue eyes stare at the kydd, the very picture of someone stumbling around with dementia. And in a way, she is, isn’t she? “I’m sorry,” she adds quietly, feeling like whatever she’s just done must be wrong if he’s looking at her like that. “I just wanted to touch the fire.” Patting her own head to illustrate what she means, she can clearly see now that there are no flames on his head,
What she did, though? Well, who knows, really? Where can she begin, and better yet, can she articulate it? The demigod’s mouth open and closes like a fish a couple of times before she shrugs and looks down again. “Really. Sorry. I’ll fix it if I see you later.”
But later is not now. Now she can’t do much of anything. And the worst part is that she knows it, which… prompts her to just disappear, leaving the Torcher there by himself again. Perhaps as if he’d dreamed the whole thing and is just terribly hungover now.
{Fin}
What she did, though? Well, who knows, really? Where can she begin, and better yet, can she articulate it? The demigod’s mouth open and closes like a fish a couple of times before she shrugs and looks down again. “Really. Sorry. I’ll fix it if I see you later.”
But later is not now. Now she can’t do much of anything. And the worst part is that she knows it, which… prompts her to just disappear, leaving the Torcher there by himself again. Perhaps as if he’d dreamed the whole thing and is just terribly hungover now.
{Fin}
but it all comes back to me in the end
WESSEX
