starter for : @sheathen
there’s naught but a hushed whisper , veiled mumbling within strangely spent nocturnal approach of long set dusk –––– hours that would come as a torturous plague to the blonde , pained by insomnium and chased by the devouring mess of a mind as iron wall would crumble to his feet ; a mere reflection of himself he would not dare to face . hands would shift over keys , lay themselves silently on polished surface of beloved steinway –– but not today , no , there is business to be finished and for once can the male not tell if whether to his advantage or its contrary position such interference within his initial desire did make up to be . thoughts leave themselves scattered at usual , basking in the cold rays of eternal moon that would spill through glacial windows onto his grand instrument ––– clad by the quietude , whenever mind halted . such loss of attention deems itself to be alike a noose snaking its way tight around the poor fool’s neck ; full remembrance of things long forgotten that would come to haunt him . and in silence would he mourn . blonde’s basement ; a rather bleak sight to behold as above , mansion’s initial heart and his residing place would remain abandoned for tonight ––– behind the walls of solitude would he no longer find such rest today and artificial is the sterile , white light , blinding , burning him with all his presence . he’s been here many times before . yet ––– never had such corner of estate felt this alien , this strange as if to doubt that it had ever posed as a part of the building they are stood in –– lost has he himself again , hour grazes midnight and sunken is the fool in entirely different spheres ; melody begins to dance , disrupted merely by the glimmer that breaks the light it meets –– something hues catch out of the corner with almost painful awareness for striking realism . earthed , glance glides only merely before he is ultimately shaken off – out of the momentary slumber own web had caught him in . folded arms are quick to loosen albeit executed reach of extended hand holds a calm pace as the male’s behaviour usual and ever often did ; grip of cold surface within silent manner –– he had noticed the other figure taking particular interest in his very own personalised weapon , chromatic and heavy lying in one’s hand , had it now rested on the grand table .
large palm settles to shove it into his direction with singular swift , clean motion , “ don’t point the fucking weapon on me . “ , hand embraces handle to turn it on it’s other side ––– glimmering with an absolute polished surface . an engraving revealed itself , the male’s name neatly adorning otherwise smooth material . long before dawn would break at horizon of vast darkness , nullifying the lack of light , would particular deed be done –– precisely planned strike against ongoing game of war the blonde had been playing against overly ambitious opponent . “ are you impatient ? you’ll get the money soon enough , hm ? but first – – “ , head dips a little lower as male had not lowered or seated himself just yet . until now , the ongoing melody of an étude had caught the male’s full attention , had let his thoughts drift into gloom of room’s corners gaze would remain nailed on ; he’s caught the echo , he’s recognised the fragmented composition that seems to turn his head into blooming field of anything but this room ––– into warmth caught buzzing on very own skin , on fingers dancing over keys alike viennese waltz , on the voice that keeps calling him whenever he reads between the lines of sheets . it had stopped . stare lingers , nowhere , anywhere . caught has he his tormented soul , finally ! alas , could he have figured out the merry go around of flashing images . “ ––– rain bullets on them . as their spirit will leave their body , i will teach their damned souls to be humble . all the lost money –– because of this fucking nonsense . “ , glance drifts quietly , remains on still weapon . he cannot bite back the bitterness laced on his tongue , the glimmer having left the light of eyes to return them into the dull strike of void . the blonde shivers , coldness grasping him gradually , as if the room’s temperature had dropped significantly –– or perhaps only now , had he become aware of it .
