Zeph
'I'm sure you did. Heh. Well if that isn't an odd thing to hear, causing your old withered heart to squeeze tight with some bizarre and uncomfortable cross between Awww, fuck, and Aw, fuck. Y'know. That oh-I'm-turning-soft feeling. The kind that people who tell themselves that they aren't soft but absolutely are get all the time.
Like you.
Anyway. So maybe there's a little more heat in your face then usual when you break off the hug, and maybe you quickly busy yourself with looking around the shop, grunting a laugh as Red kind of recounts your nickname for the Spire. But you come back to him soon enough, and when he doesn't meet your eyes in return it squeezes you again. You want to ask what's going on, but hold off for the moment. "Anythin' stronger?" you wonder instead, raising an eyebrow and following Sam towards wherever he's going to get the tea from.
Only when you're situated, leaning on a tabletop or counter and freed of your lingering self-consciousness do you broach the real concern you have, trying to sound nonchalant. "So. Letter ya left- what's that shit about?"
Like you.
Anyway. So maybe there's a little more heat in your face then usual when you break off the hug, and maybe you quickly busy yourself with looking around the shop, grunting a laugh as Red kind of recounts your nickname for the Spire. But you come back to him soon enough, and when he doesn't meet your eyes in return it squeezes you again. You want to ask what's going on, but hold off for the moment. "Anythin' stronger?" you wonder instead, raising an eyebrow and following Sam towards wherever he's going to get the tea from.
Only when you're situated, leaning on a tabletop or counter and freed of your lingering self-consciousness do you broach the real concern you have, trying to sound nonchalant. "So. Letter ya left- what's that shit about?"
you're not a bad person
for the ways you tried to kill your sadness
for the ways you tried to kill your sadness
