I don't want to steal your freedom
you don't have to change your mind
The effusive, joyful surprise in her tone warms his heart, even waterlogged and misshapen as it is these days. In contrast to her own memories, he recalls clearly when last they spoke; Jude in his arms, Phoebe in the wind, her hiding away from the sun in his house and biting him for the safety of the shifts in his veins. He had asked for a friend - she had said he had one.
Those are in short supply these days. Just one, if Hadama can forgive him for abandoning Torchline and the crown alongside it. Harper wouldn’t know. He has been too cowardly to return, to even write. So Maea’s invitation at her side cracks every rib bone, crushes his lungs, until he could drown in his own viscera and go gladly for all the comfort it brings him.
Fueled enough by liquor for too much honesty, Harper laughs and shakes his head, curls longer now and lending a youthful touch to his features from lack of care and stringent routine. His hands are without a mug, so he leans back and settles them on his thighs instead. “Not great, really. Currently making a circuit of each bar and brothel in Caido, though!” Repeating the loop endlessly so he doesn’t linger in one place too long but is never without sex or alcohol for too long. Leaning forward he props one elbow on the table to cradle his chin, and aims a warm smile that is for once lacking any overtures or implications. “But you’re the star of the show here, Maea, let’s be honest. Don’t let me bring the mood down. How have you been?” The haze of alcohol in his brain makes it easier to move on from his own insinuated troubles; it’s why he hates to sober up these days.
Those are in short supply these days. Just one, if Hadama can forgive him for abandoning Torchline and the crown alongside it. Harper wouldn’t know. He has been too cowardly to return, to even write. So Maea’s invitation at her side cracks every rib bone, crushes his lungs, until he could drown in his own viscera and go gladly for all the comfort it brings him.
Fueled enough by liquor for too much honesty, Harper laughs and shakes his head, curls longer now and lending a youthful touch to his features from lack of care and stringent routine. His hands are without a mug, so he leans back and settles them on his thighs instead. “Not great, really. Currently making a circuit of each bar and brothel in Caido, though!” Repeating the loop endlessly so he doesn’t linger in one place too long but is never without sex or alcohol for too long. Leaning forward he props one elbow on the table to cradle his chin, and aims a warm smile that is for once lacking any overtures or implications. “But you’re the star of the show here, Maea, let’s be honest. Don’t let me bring the mood down. How have you been?” The haze of alcohol in his brain makes it easier to move on from his own insinuated troubles; it’s why he hates to sober up these days.
I just want to make you love me
so please let me take my time
HARPER
