𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑒.

             ‘ the forges are all yours, but don’t expect my help. i am too busy for commissions at this time to take on any others. ‘ if it were up to her, she wouldn’t have opened the forges at all, but her father had made it clear that it would always be open to anyone needed it, especially heroes. she didn’t have much use for it other than in the village below.

@divinitystained​ / starter call.  

                    “could  be  like  …  chocolate  covered  strawberries.”  or,  it  could  not.  he  bites  his  tongue  on  that,  only  because  she  had  seemed  so  excited.  "i  am,“  and  it’s  not  a  lie,  though  he  doesn’t  seem  to  mind  just  yet.  he  sets  the  ice  cream  between  them.  "just  don’t  blend  shit  at  like,  three  in  the  morning  and  it’ll  be  whatever.”

            the  rules.  he  snorts  at  the  thought.  if  anything,  them  sharing  a  space  is  nothing  short  of  lawless.  which  explains  his  trepidation.  "i  do,  but.  lost  the  lid.“  he’s  …  fascinated.  and  then  he’s  laughing  while  he  moves  behind  her,  finds  the  handle  of  the  freezer.  ”sure.  only  have  chocolate  ice  cream,  though.“

           not  often  he’s  on  the  other  side  of  things.  but  there  are  only  so  many  days  in  a  row  that  he  can  keep  to  such  a  consistent  lonely  schedule.  and  no  one  should  know  him  here;  he’s  gone  far  out  of  his  way  to  make  sure  of  that.  he  gets  a  chair  at  the  bar,  far  away  from  anyone  else,  waits  for  @divinitystained  to  notice  him.

sc. 

exhaustion has settled into his bones. even hiding out in this alley, carefully concealed from sight, true rest seems an impossibility. he doesn’t know how to let go of the tension wound tight around him, mind eternally convinced a threat is right around the corner. danger is always waiting somewhere. maybe that’s why he flinches when the door shuts, mistaking the girl’s appearance as something worse.

at her approach, he looks up, gaze meeting dark circles and catching on the scar on her right cheek. xeno is quick to look away, not wanting his eyes to linger on that mark of past pain. he hates when people look too closely at his scars. “oh—” the offer is unexpected, brows raising a little in surprise. “yeah, yeah. if you don’t mind.” he gives her a little sheepish smile, reaching out to pluck a cigarette from the pack. “thanks. i kinda thought you were gonna tell me to fuck off.”

        a light shrug,    extending the lighter to him rather than lighting it for him.    comfort and all that.    “been there.”    and she doesn’t feel  much  shame in admitting that.    not to someone in no position to judge,    at least,    and who might understand the conflicting feeling of it all.    she can’t    (    won’t    )   guess at why  he’s  here now,   but if it’s anything like her own reason for having done it...    it’s sometimes the best case scenario.    but she doesn’t want to put that shit on other people    ——    most people aren’t professionally tragic.