@vndict : “ you don’t have to talk, we can just sit together. ” ( steven )
it’s easier to remain mute on the way to doom as his every breath already feels like hitched sobs threaten to spill over . but the quiet is treacherous, betrays him as the emptiness inside of him spreads and the echo of loss is all the louder . it’s still so cold, so oddly lonely ( but at least the aching has stopped . ) steven’s coat doesn’t help and logically, he knows the plane isn’t freezing, first class with all its extra leg room shouldn’t be freezing so he has to just assume —— he would rather not .
finally, a different thought crosses his mind . logistics of the funeral . the horror of shirley’s work bleeding into the family’s business is suddenly all too real . when he speaks his voice isn’t wavering as much as anticipated, isn’t broken and wet but it feels oh so helpless as every syllable has to be forced through his teeth . ❝ i'll uhm, i’ll need to rent a suit, i think . i sold the one i had for nellie’s wedding . ❞
