#umbnis

   the atrophy under the wooden floorboards hits him first, something otherwise undetected by the rest. 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭. how he stands in a room and feels it escape him. he's got more than enough company than he's had in years, and his mouth still hides under his collar all the same. the vitality of each of them makes up for the lack of his own; vincent trails so behind, it seems like he's hardly with them, save for the times nanaki, more often than not, falls back to join his pace.

   accompanied or not, vincent would have pressed his back to the wall anyway, the mellow tans of a painting above him disapproving of his image. between the space at the end of the bed and the side of a closet, his bent leg props his elbow, and that's the way he remains the entire night. close eyed. not a sound. no heartbeat. no sleep, either. he told cloud, once, lips readable; 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. vincent avoids it, avoids whatever supposed rest sleep should bring, and nobody has it in them to tell him any differently.

   it doesn't matter if the light spills prismatic through the shanghai inn's windows. if it's a thin skirt or an embrace. it could have been a single candle what signaled morning for all he cared. cloud hovers like the flame atop the wax, and vincent is still close lidded. he sensed him alright. 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨, unmistakable in its smell that remembers another smell. without riddle: vincent can't stand their common ground. the root of their misery. get up, cloud says, as opposed to wake up.

   only then, vincent opens his eyes.

   “  .  .  . 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾,  ”  he hums, and cloud steps back. he's not without taking a good glance at him, one to seize him when he stands at full height. the room feels empty, even once he paces through it. the flowers skim the earth and repel white light through the curtains. vincent feels thoroughly unbothered by it, because it doesn't quite reach him anyway. so, yes. 𝘆𝗲𝘀, 𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲𝘀, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝘀𝗸. a hand hovers on his holster, and drops after a sigh.