His Room | As soon as the council adjourns | @lcnaestclle
His heart was pumping too hard in chest, his breath coming in shaky gasps, only partially from the sprintĀ up the stairs and into his room the moment he could push himself out of that stuffy council room. Heād felt it near instantly, the ever-present thrumming under his fingers, under his skin, g o n e.
He didnāt believe in this bullshit they called magic, didnāt care about it, but something primal struck through his core the moment he realized that he couldnāt escape. That the possibility to just leaveĀ -
His heart ached in his chest as he grabbed the half-filled bag stuck under his bed, choking him. (It felt like when heād been left behind, again and again, but some part of him had left himself.)Ā
He had flickered out the moment he felt the connection come back, before appearing back in his seat a moment later. He couldnāt leave like this - not yet. There was a book upstairs where Emmy was trying to teach him basic chords and where Ziyu had practised lettering, a scarf that Laila had made that would keep him warm even in Canada, and if he couldnāt come back - he needed to take them.
(There was a whole other lump in his throat, even as he tried to push away the thought that this was too much, that this was a sign of something that he was trying to ignore.)
His emergency supplies were always in the belt bag on his chest but the backpack had an extra warm layer, spare underwear, extra cash. He was in the midst of stuffing the scarf ontop when he heard the door open.
His bag dropped from nerveless fingers, coins spilling out from the top pocket and clattering to the ground. He span, cursing the fact that he hadnāt locked the door behind him, trying to past on a smile he didnāt feel.
āLovely day, isnāt it?ā
