NOAH
I wait and tell myself "life ain't chess,"
The anger that he felt had subsided as he sat, the grief of losing Weaver too much to be overpowered by his anger towards Delphine's actions. They were both grieving, and as Delphine sat with him, more grace towards her rose in his chest. Grace and grief both, and each of them felt so heavy. His alcohol-ridden state made his head feel fuzzy, but the emotions that surged through every fiber of his being felt tiring. He sighed. Finally, he took a sip of the tea before he set the mug down on the table aside the couch. He let his body lay some on the arm twisting so his back rested against it, leaning and resting. While his shoulder was no longer there for her to lean on, Noah left his chest open for her should she choose it.
Fate truly brought them together, these two distasters of humans in the current moment.
Noah was generally a man of poise and composure--but the recent happenings in his life had picked away and torn apart that part of him. He had killed a man. Delphine's children had died. He took her into his home. The Citadel was attacked. Weaver died. His brother was locked outside of Halo for the season. It all felt too heavy for him to hold. The whiskey, bringing up his body temperature and blurring the lines in his soul, felt good. Sitting here with Delphine felt good. But why did these things have to feel so good? Because the rest of his life felt so bad.
"Delphine..." he started, voice slurry, "do you hate me for being a hypocrite?"
But no one comes in and yes, you're alone...
