#seethingblooms

there  is  the  hint  of  something  lingering  ,  just  on  the  edges  of  his  vision  ,  like  fireflies  in  late  summer  ;  they  sparkle  ,  they  dance  ,  and  when  he  turns  his  head  ,  they  disappear  as  if  they  never  belonged  in  the  first  place  .  it's  comical  to  him  ,  brings  forth  a  wide  grin  that  settles  on  his  lips  ,  perhaps  too  wide  ,  perhaps  bordering  on  the  question  of  whether  he  has  completely  lost  his  mind  finally  .  how  he  ends  up  at  the  diner  ,  cian  isn't  one  hundred  percent  certain  ,  but  he  enters  all  the  same  ;  some  coffee  will  do  him  some  good  ,  anyway  .  ❝  did  you  know  that  you  have  this  little  blue  guy  that's  hanging  off  your  shoulder?  he's  cute  ,  really  ,  so  did  you  name  him?  ❞  he  questions  ,  as  he  leans  against  a  doorframe  that  he  hadn't  realized  he'd  maneuvered  to  ,  let  alone  why  he  approached  her  in  the  first  place  .  but  it  seemed  that  the  hallucinations  hadn't  yet  eased  from  his  vision  ,  despite  the  hours  of  night  air  he'd  consumed  into  his  lungs  .

“How likely do we think this is going to go south?” After the last few days, who could blame anyone for having those thoughts? Elena wasn’t one to talk around the bush, rather forward in certain moments. And who would know better than Beren? If she trusted someone to have an eye on things, to know stuff before it happened, that was the person she’d go to. “Honestly, after the last few days this just seems scummy. Fake.” Of course, there wasn’t a single doubt about there being something more to it.