#moliinar

staring out onto the vast field that stretched out beneath the monastery, forests in the distance, a small village, too. forearms resting on the ballustrade, if anyone came to push him over now, there would be little dimitri could do to stop it.   (   could, would, wanted.   )   except for the pair of eyes firmly watching his back. having watched his back for as long as he cared to remember.   ❛❛   why are you here?   ❜❜   devoid of all emotion aside from a exhaustion that went bone deep. just one of many question that he wanted to ask, all of them similar in syntax, different in semantics.

why are you still here? why are you here again?

tall fuck club… 8I

❝   do you know anything about,   um,   carnivorous plants ?   i bought bernadetta this pitcher plant as a gift,   but i think it is dying,   and i do not know anything about them.   i cannot give her a dead plant !   ❞ 

─── ➺ ❪ @moliinar​ ❛ Happy Birthday, Annette 🌼

The day had been almost over and Annette was making her way over to her quarters, however she hears a quiet voice call for her and she turns to greet him with a soft smile. 

nods… 8I…. so this is how sylvain becomes the BLs tallest member

ghfjdgks…… who’s arm is that… did raphael fill in for you… that’s nice of him.

eyes scanned over the planters-- the unfortunate ones left outside to endure the seasonal elements. unbalanced and unstable weather raged a war on the fickle and sensitive plants. an unfair fight against mother nature herself.

kneeling down, she sifted out weeds that’d find no problems taking up residence. they sought to squeeze the remaining life out of whatever survived... if anything had at least... but a small glimmer of hope emerged at a few late bloomers-- they managed to hold out through the raging cold, snow, rain and the dry heat.

eyes moved away if only briefly to glance back at the other tending to the various plants scattered about. rummaging through the chaos for the sole survivors.  alike in mind, they kept quiet as they worked. had someone else come along-- they’d surely have left quicker than they came. the silence thicker than a fog for most, but for those with little to say, it was comforting.