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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2015 9:43:18 GMT
[googlefont="Amarante"] There's so many places I want to go, so many things I want to see Mikleo wasn't angry, he was just tired. Most of all, he was just happy that Sorey came out of the conflict alive.
whatever darkness that's been plaguing the shephard had long retreated - though traces of it still clung to the young man like the cold sweat dowsing him. Mikleo was counting on Sorey's system to overcome the spell, but if Sorey couldn't overcome a simple fever at the moment...
The seraph sighed and rolled his sore neck, palm flattening over the page he'd been trying and failing to focus on. His mind was racking up miles. Who was that being of darkness? And what did she mean by the things she said about Sorey and the darkness she'd injected in him? And did it have to do with the changes Mikleo had been sensing behind the seams of his pact with Sorey? With the question-disguised locusts swarming in his head, Mikleo had to give up thinking entirely. Now, he was just stick waiting.
When Sorey showed signs of stirring, Mikleo's love for reading conveniently faded. He gazed down at the brunet calmly, voice following suit.
"You've been out for 3 days. How are you feeling?"
And while it didn't become him to nag the clearly weak shepherd with questions, he couldn't overcome the urgency to do so anyway.
"Do you remember what happened right before you passed out?"
The dream is alive and it's right in front of me
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Post by Deleted on Dec 18, 2015 11:19:34 GMT
Waking up was, quite frankly, unpleasant. His body felt like it was on fire- cheeks flushed dark red as his body's immune system struggled to fight off the infection invading it. Like a disease, the darkness tried to infect every pore, interrupting normal processes and causing his entire body to turn on itself. The light, like white blood cells, tried to fend it off- but it was Sorey that was getting attacked in the process. Sweat beaded down his forehead, breathing faintly rasping in the quiet of the room.
"You... out for three days... feeling?"
Mikleo's words swam above his head like some fuzzy bug buzzing around. Through the haze, his eyes opened, the world above swirling dizzily before focusing somewhat- his gaze shifted to the other, finding comfort in those familiar purple eyes. Sorey wasn't often one to get sick- yet when he did, it was never kind to him. But this was even worse than when the sickness of the pacts had overcome him- this was like nothing he'd felt before.
"I'm... alive." He croaked out, struggling for a moment to prop himself up against the pillows before a wave of nausea made him decide that laying down was a much better idea. "Seen better days." Weakly, a joke was cracked, trying to get the other to relax at least somewhat.
A few moments silence passed at Mikleo's question. He remembered white eyes and long black hair- flames colder than snow. Then pain- darkness. "I was... attacked." He responded, after a slow moment. His eyes closed again, exhaustion evident in the shadows upon his face. "...Sorry." What exactly he was apologizing for was up to the seraph- there was a multitude of reasons. For worrying you, for getting hurt, for the things I couldn't change...
| I fell in love with your smile, your beautiful smile
tell me if it needs edits.
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MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [googlefont="Oxygen:400"]
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Post by Deleted on Dec 18, 2015 16:22:20 GMT
[googlefont="Handlee"] There's so many places I want to go, so many things I want to see The reassurance didn’t help, and Mikleo couldn’t concentrate enough to see the humor in the potential joke. His mind was cast farther from the boy in bed, and closer to the concerns he’d been nursing in his head. But the apology, while it didn’t change anything in these past three days, made the seraph come back enough to fold his arms and stick his nose high up in the air.
“You’d better be sorry,” Mikleo huffed. “You had me working my butt off just putting you to bed alone, you know. You're built like a tank.” The rebuke was genuine, though, like it may as well be another time that Sorey did something stupid. It seemed to be one of his talents, after all. After a while, Mikleo relented and moved to squeeze his idiot’s hand in the reassurance he couldn’t get himself to voice.
He honestly wished Sorey could have forgotten all about that night, to go back to just being an errand boy whose only real threat was being hounded daily by his watchdog sublord. But the heart of the matter was that neither could help what was to come anymore, and Mikleo had been slowly coming to terms with that during Sorey’s sleep. Now, all the seraph could do was sit on his hands and hope Sorey was ready for the unpromising future.
With a thought-heavy sigh, the seraph stood up to do a semicircle around the bed, so that he was sitting right next to Sorey instead of sitting over him like a table. The silence flowed timelessly as Mikleo just stayed there, counting their separate heartbeats.
“You need to get stronger,” he said at last. “You can feel it, can’t you? The darkness. It knows what you are, and it wants to ruin that. This not only puts you in peril, Sorey, but the sanctity of the shepherd as well.” Flashbacks of Heldalf came to mind, where the fallen knight had elected Sorey on several occasions to join his cause. Heldalf did everything possible to get under the shepherd's skin - and when he knew Sorey was immovable in his resolve, Gramps was the cost.
When Mikleo found his voice again, there was the rough sting of acid in his throat, and maybe also the cadence of regret. “I guess…there’s only so much I can do for you, when I’m just the side guy, huh. Maybe the problem isn’t just the heartless. Maybe it’s me.” He gathered his knees to hug them and decidedly eyed the far wall, like he was talking to it instead.
“Sorey. Be honest. Have I been hindering you from spreading your wings?”
The dream is alive and it's right in front of me
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