#masked shadows((asks))

After breaking poor Crowley's heart, his own thrums like honey to his isolating behavior. Strings swallows the lump in his throat as he can feel his body lurch and pull towards the darkness. His small rebellion is making sure his phone on him.

The woods are dark, of course, but they feel like a suffocating ocean of the void. Only barely broken up by what darkness he can peer through. Every small twig snapping or an errant wind puts his neck hair up. He very quickly texts his host, hoping she will help him before the Anons push him into a place he can't call for help from.

[To: Creepy-crowlies]

Oh this feels really bad to do. Strings tries to swallow it down, but the cruelness feels like vinegar in a heart burn.

" Crowley... You're barely even human. I-I don't know if... I feel safe with you around."

... how so?

Strings is right now at least showered but mostly bundled up in the couch next to his big fuzzy bee friend Crowley. She's been an exquisite caretaker to make sure he eats but his head still feels a little too warm and thoughts half cotton filled. He reads the ask and sniffles into a tissue.