#absxthe

        “ you should rest a bit. “ killian knelt in front of the man, concern written across her expression -- the (almost)doctor had been walking around the park when she’d come across the man, and he didn’t look well. in fact, she was fairly certain that he had a concussion, and a fairly bad case of dehydration, if the smell of alcohol on his breath said anything. he seemed coherent enough, but the bruise on his cheek, and the yelling of the protest just around the corner said enough. digging a water bottle out of her purse, she held it out for him, blue eyes focused -- she was looking for slurring, looking for unfocused pupils, coordination issues, anything that said that he needed to go to the hospital. “ trust me, i’m a doctor. kind of. but please, stay sitting? “ || @absxthe 

          the boat is leaving. the boat is leaving and killian can only stand on the dock, staring forlorn at a ferry that might have been leading to her destiny. there’s another tomorrow, and she knows it, but still her chest aches to watch it sail further out of reach, some sad metaphor  for the freedom that’s just out of reach. there’s something out there, just out of her grasp, and she wants it, desperately wants to know what it is.          she has no plan, and that alone is terrifying enough, without the added stress -- she has to make it out here, or she has to turn with her tail tucked between her legs. what else could she do? three strikes and your out and this is her third. greece - alone, without her sister, with no plan, no job; there’s uncertainty abound, but she’s never been more certain that she made the right choice.         at that moment, though? suitcase heavy against her leg, she stares out at the clear ocean water and wonders. faith shaken, she takes a deep breath, trying to figure out where to go from here. she doesn’t have the money to pay for a place to stay and a boat ride, she’s fairly certain, so either she waits, or she finds a kind soul to take pity on her.             “ --- oh, shit. ”         the curse is foreign on a usually sweet tongue, and she winces, running a hand through those heavy honey curls. what now? || @absxthe

Today, however, he was tired and strained and every nerve seemed rubbed raw by people. Friends, strangers, everyone. Each word and movement was just too much and after thirty minutes of trying and failing to hide how introvertedly overwhelmed he was, Valentin muttered a quick apology and escaped out the back of the building to lean against the wall, stare at the graffiti and breathe long calm breaths to clear his mind.

“Well I do!” Courfeyrac shot back, voice rising slightly at the words, desperate to change the other boy’s mind, he didn’t like to hear him to talk like that period, but they’d already been having a rather heated conversation and he was getting worked up. “I like you existing, and it hurts that you don’t! And I’m sure I’m not the only one that thinks that way, y’know.”

{@orestessoaring} Grantaire grumbled, wiping down the counter, the cheery music much too loud for his liking, why the shop opened at 5am he would never know, it was basically a ghost town until 7 when normal people woke up. He sighed and poured himself a cup and jumped up onto the counter, sitting there trying to make himself feel a little more alert when he heard the door chime and someone walk in. "Oh for fucks sake-" he muttered under his breath before getting down and moving to the register. "Good morning, if you can even call it morning-"

Cosette shook her head lightly with a smile and hugged the bottle tightly to her body. “It’s minee!” She slurred slightly with a joyous expression on her face. It was obvious to anyone that she was drunk but she didn’t see a problem with it; at least not now.