Dirty tissues, trust issues

Seiji

Seiji has found some measure of peace now. Not confidence — he still glances toward the windows and doors frequently — but peace. The days all blend together, but he thinks they have been together here for a while. Perhaps several days. So Longnight will end, must end, soon. If he thinks of that, of how much time has passed already, he feels better. He is fine. He is fine. He holds a mug between his palms, hands resting on the table before him, eyes moving curiously around the room. An amazing amount of things have happened thus far — death, life, frenzy, quiet. Seiji is reflecting on them when movement piques his attention, and he glances up into a familiar face. “Remi,” he says, smiling. Relatively certain he has the name right. The man is somehow… dimmer than Seiji recalls. Though perhaps that was only because their first meeting occurred out in the cold, in the light of the luxere’s glowing antlers. And this second meeting occurs in the confines of darkness. “Tea,” Seiji says. He isn’t sure of the blend, but it is pleasant. Perhaps a little darker than what he’s used to. He has managed to avoid the more tempermental beverages here, though maybe getting drunk and forgetting everything is a better survival strategy. “Thank you.” If Remi steps away immediately, Seiji will wait until he returns to speak to him again, but he is curious as to the other man’s wellbeing. And happy to see a familiar face. “Longnight is well named,” with a bit of a wry smile. “I am glad we’re both safe. Is there anything you need?” as a child I mostly spoke inside my head had conversations with the clouds, the dogs, the dead