THERE ARE SOME THINGS OF WHICH he may very well never grow used to. fingers touch the FRAYED edges of the photograph, smoothing out creases which only spring back into place. expression kept hidden —- no one could see a man cry if they couldn't even see his eyes. yes, he may never learn to live with this separation. it was DIFFERENT, he could say, when he had a goal in mind. PAINFUL, yes, his intention to find the man in black, the reaper sephiroth, but that was starkly different to this island where one merely waits and waits … empty rebellions and mundane lives. he aches, hole burned through his chest —- and bumps into a poor creature UNFORTUNATE enough to be in the way of his wandering eye. ❝shit, sorry-!❞ but he's distracted, fingers extended to grasp DESPERATELY at the photograph near fluttering from his grasp.
@nooklisms


















