#dvnamis

"Where are they?" Though his fingers are done their search, it’s clear that he hasn’t given up just yet. "Where where where are they?” Now frantic, and on edge, his eyes search the premises as if she might have misplaced wings she never had in the first place. Maybe it was the coffee he had in the morning, or the lack there of one in the afternoon. Maybe it’s because he can feel him drawing closer as sins wash over him. Maybe it’s because he can almost hear Him telling him off for touching a woman so harshly. Maybe maybe maybe. There was no definite answer, and his teeth grit against one another at the notion. 

Leaning her back against the railing of the bridge's walkway, she maneuvered her hair to one side of her shoulder once the spine chilling night wind passed, causing the river around them to ripple in one direction. Her lips pursed for she had another thought, albeit more opinionated than factual. ❝I do think the half life can subside since not all love is perfect but it can be fixed to perfection. That goes hand in hand with everything, honestly. Living your life settling with half love will only lower your standards of society.❞ 

"I don't even make myself breakfast in bed and I'm freaking in love with my wonderful self. Unless you'll promise me something in return.. nah." Scrunches his nose as his lips purse slightly. "Though I'm in the mood for pancakes. How about you make some for us both?"

Nothing.

It’s only Abel, a meager child, sat on top of his bunk with his sheet draped over his small figure. The child had never enjoyed storms – they were loud and disruptive, but bearable if he ignored them. It was this one however, this gift of mother nature that brought with it hardened rain – hail and flashes of lightening so bright that it easily lit up the dark expanse of the dorm’s interior in chaotic bursts. It wasn’t either of those, but rather, the loud underbelly of mother nature – her colossal roar that forced Abel to drag his bed sheet further around himself in feigned protection, to steady his shaken breaths as fear crept into his very being, the room shaking around him. Fear that dug its way down, past skin, past muscle, into everything that he was and could be. The child’s bones shook inside of his pin-pricked skin, rattling his organs – stabbing into his heart which threatened to tear its way from his chest at any given moment. Small hands covered his ears in desperate hope to drown the world out, to alleviate merely existing while the world raged on outside, silent tears lost to the storm, to be forgotten come the bright morning.