#a 01

2-Che’s Tremaine

🐱 Persian

📸 Chanan [2-Ché Persians]

"The long grass grazes my calves as the warm night breeze sweeps across the field. The vivid sensation is foreign to me.

—Nier Automata

“Aye me, Myrkhul looks to bless my evenings with such grace.” She has a habit of running her mouth sometimes, but this time, she seems particularly starry-eyed as she observes the other. “This place does not become the beauty I have gifted with.” 

"Would you mind if I kept you company?" 

Mitsuru had seen the raven haired beauty sitting alone in the bar. It was hardly out of the ordinary, but what set her apart from the other sad patrons was how incredibly attractive she was. It was shallow of the redhead, perhaps, but she had precious few opportunities to be a bit selfish in her life.

And so, the woman confidently made her way over to the stool next to her and sat upon it.

Taking shelter from the coming rainfall under a shop’s old awning seemed to have been call, given the current downpour the world was caught in.

Leaning against the wall behind him, the assassin watched the sight before him; people rushing to open umbrellas or get under cover before their belongings were soaked to the core. He sighed, watching the small cloud of his breath as it vanished into the cold air. A familiar itch crawled down his spine, prompting him to take his half-empty pack from his pocket, as well as...

...

Where was his lighter?

Cursing silently, he felt over all his coat’s pockets, finding nothing but stinging frustration. Damn it! He must have left it in his office...