["Unexpected" doesn't come close. Whelk is moved on, feels his body tense with anticipation, like she might smack him; she doesn't. She wraps her arms around him. He's limp, still, standing on stage with a spotlight shining.
[No. They're alone. There's no audience watching, whispering. It's only her.
[What is she doing? After all that, what is she doing?
[He doesn't pull back. He doesn't do anything. His arms hang uselessly at his sides, and he stares ahead, past her shoulder. They're the same height. His head thunks down against hers, heavy. Is that enough?
[He feels like he could sleep. Maybe if they just stayed like this a while...]
[What more is there to do? He doesn’t do anything. He killed his roommate. It didn’t work. He died. He knows it was for nothing.
[Is hugging a dead man for nothing? It matters. His head thunks down, and that’s all the answer he needs to give. She doesn’t pull back, then; moves a hand to the back of that heavy weight. One learns to carry it, after a while. Never truly gets easier.
[But no one’s watching. He doesn’t have to be a ghost to linger. She doesn’t have to know where he’s gone to care.
[Rest. It finds him quickly, the way rest does when you've been without it for so long. His eyes become too heavy to open, pressure against the base of his skull. He doesn't spiral into sleep the same way he would after drinking himself half to death. It's easier than that. It settles over him, then washes away. That's all there is.]
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pantheraliam) wrote2030-03-12 03:03 pm
read this a second time and started crying
[No. They're alone. There's no audience watching, whispering. It's only her.
[What is she doing? After all that, what is she doing?
[He doesn't pull back. He doesn't do anything. His arms hang uselessly at his sides, and he stares ahead, past her shoulder. They're the same height. His head thunks down against hers, heavy. Is that enough?
[He feels like he could sleep. Maybe if they just stayed like this a while...]
8,)
[What more is there to do? He doesn’t do anything. He killed his roommate. It didn’t work. He died. He knows it was for nothing.
[Is hugging a dead man for nothing? It matters. His head thunks down, and that’s all the answer he needs to give. She doesn’t pull back, then; moves a hand to the back of that heavy weight. One learns to carry it, after a while. Never truly gets easier.
[But no one’s watching. He doesn’t have to be a ghost to linger. She doesn’t have to know where he’s gone to care.
[For now, he can rest.]
:tailsshock: WRAPPED?????? I'M SO????