ย ย ย ย ย ย Daylight foreign to himโโhe could not see any light.ย Sitting in a room: one that wasnโt his own, puffy eyes stare blankโโdesolated, at the ceiling.ย The interior decorating flourished colors to bring upon a homely setting, and yet he felt nothing more than burden.ย The call of words the prior night haunts him, worse than any slander heโs ever heard;
Or so it felt, because it came from someone he held to his heart dearly.
A night bludgeoned by feelings, falsely presumed unrequited, set him to an episodic turmoil.ย ย He remembered the fine lines that formed with his glowerโโhow ochre eyes refused to abide him so little as a glance.ย For the first time in his life, after many years, he knew the severity of loss.
Many things tired him physically, emotionally, mentallyโโ-but thisโฆ he felt himself trapped in the turbulence of an emotional sea, ripping and whipping against the ligaments he desperately failed to paddle through.ย He reflects on how his back turned from him, heart notably breaking, when he knew he needed him most.ย Why couldnโt he chase him?
How could he amount to anything, knowing he tattered something valuable, unable to salvage the falling pieces in his shaky hands? Reluctantly, clenching themโโhe forces himself to acquaint with the day, however heavy it may be for him; he veils his features with poise, finesseโฆ joy.ย But later, itโd become apparent by loyal guards the High King snuck out of sanctuaryโโrecklessly chasing after what wished to be a memory.
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