#;spawn

There's a silence that permeates him. The words settling inside of him like a weight. Rocks weighing down a corpse in a river. He was not for the living, not anymore. He couldn't walk down cobbled streets the same way, wear his uniform in broad daylight, chat casually and easy with his family.

No, he was not made for that any longer.

"So who am I for then? Am I just for you?" The words are spit with venom, but also a hint of resignation. An understanding that there was truth to her words, even if he hated it.

The moment he hears the words, he can feel his body go stiff with the command, bitterness seeping under his tongue. He could feel her hands running through his hair, the sound of scissors as small pieces fell to the floor.

It was something he'd usually done himself, cut his own hair but now... well it wasn't exactly easy given he no longer had a reflection. If it had been up to him though, he'd just leave it. Let it grow, he didn't care. God forbid things be different, god forbid he be different.

No, she insisted on cutting his hair, so it would look like before. So he would look as much like before as possible. He wondered if she preferred it when he kept his eyes closed, so she didn't have to see the red glow to them now. So she could live in her playhouse of denial even more.

It was laughable, really. How she tried so desperately to pretend nothing had changed, when everything had changed, collapsed, sunken in.

spawn.