01-19-2023, 02:58 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-19-2023, 03:35 AM by Jay Carpenter.)
Somehow, his legs kept going. Carried him away from the crash of a friend against the wall. He didn’t look back. Couldn't. No reaction but for the flex of his fists at his sides. There was no token to grasp for comfort. The pockets felt empty, like there should be something at the hip that gave all this meaning. At one point, he wiped his face of spit and sweat and Nox's blood spattering his skin. His own trickled from one ear. The only apparent injury. Though his arm arched as he walked. His knuckles were on fire. Nothing he hadn’t felt before. There were plenty of holes in bedroom walls over the years.
The power threaded fire through his veins. It very nearly ripped the door off its hinges when he left the tunnels. Or maybe it did. He didn’t really take the time to notice. Nor look at the scream that shrieked behind his back when it did.
He wanted to scream. To throw fists through walls and numb his knuckles to the wrist. What was worse was he still didnt know whose face he pounded in that picture. Nox’s? Or his own?
That’s how he found Seven. Soul cracked, already hanging by the last hinge. He just looked through him at first. Didn’t see the person that brought him here. Just a figure. A shadow of something that he thought should be meaningful. Instead, it was empty.
The joke turned the tension a little. And he met his eye.
A draw of the breath he’d held since he breathed the shitstorm that was goodbye the only sign. Splintered. Head pounding.
A grunt when Seven’s arm wrapped his shoulder. That was the side he tumbled on when the floor dropped out under him. But it wasn’t so much more than the ache down to the gut. And he let the other guy lead him away. But he didn’t care where. Cheeseburgers no longer sounded like a good idea.
The power threaded fire through his veins. It very nearly ripped the door off its hinges when he left the tunnels. Or maybe it did. He didn’t really take the time to notice. Nor look at the scream that shrieked behind his back when it did.
He wanted to scream. To throw fists through walls and numb his knuckles to the wrist. What was worse was he still didnt know whose face he pounded in that picture. Nox’s? Or his own?
That’s how he found Seven. Soul cracked, already hanging by the last hinge. He just looked through him at first. Didn’t see the person that brought him here. Just a figure. A shadow of something that he thought should be meaningful. Instead, it was empty.
The joke turned the tension a little. And he met his eye.
A draw of the breath he’d held since he breathed the shitstorm that was goodbye the only sign. Splintered. Head pounding.
A grunt when Seven’s arm wrapped his shoulder. That was the side he tumbled on when the floor dropped out under him. But it wasn’t so much more than the ache down to the gut. And he let the other guy lead him away. But he didn’t care where. Cheeseburgers no longer sounded like a good idea.
Only darkness shows you the light.