#we discussed

@firstratebxtch

Long fingers twitched ever so slightly through a weightless state as they hung over the arms of a plush chair.  The air flowing through the living room was clean and heavy with the smell of a late-night spring storm.  The trees just outside the front windows rustled against the glass as the wind started to gradually pick up.  It was a very peaceful scenario even with the emptiness of the manor around him, save for the thunder rolling across the skies and coming gradually closer.

Kaiba’s body was sunk into the chair he’d managed to stagger over to through his intoxicated condition.  This is what he lived for these days when he could afford it.  Mixing medications with hard liquors to attain a state of numbness.  It was his defense against the loneliness and the isolation of his life.  A younger him might argue that these choices were anything but acceptable and that there was a battle to be fought through determination but this, this was just easier.

A flash of lightning filled the room lighting up the darkest and farthest corners.  As the thunder crashed, shaking the walls of the manor, blue eyes snapped open.  Kaiba’s vision was blurred and faded in and out as he tried to focus.  The muscles in his left leg tightened and released as something vibrated against him. The brunette fumbled to grab the object for a moment but eventually revealed his ringing phone.  Bringing the screen into his line of sight, his eyebrows furrowed as he just barely made out the name on the screen. “What now?” He grumbled under his breath sliding the call bar to the answer button.  

Such thing as courting between boys and girls didn't exist in their world. Save for a few exceptions, save for the mockery of it, most of Name Bearers didn't see their fellow forced conscripts as any more than brothers and sister. They spent years bathing in malfunctioning showers, sharing cloistered spaces, eating shit and dirt to survive, so the bubbling joy of romance or love didn't happen often.

To Cross, Anju and Kurena were part of a sisterhood. To Cross, Shin was a guider and Raiden was a protector, big siblings who would look after them no matter what, because that was the code. To Cross, Theo was an equal, a survivor, an artist, another brother to put her faith in when all ahead was a sea of Legion.

Or that was the plan, how it was supposed to be. Perhaps that was the reason she didn't tell neither Anju nor Kurena she'd be meeting with him alone, in the city, away from prying eyes, away from the oaths they swore every time they got relocated into different squadrons, when someone died, when they were no more than infants. Because it wasn't supposed to be like this.

The dress and shoes she bought with Zimmerman's money and the Federacy's economic compensations for their services. The Eighty-Six were celebrities, pitied far and wide, however, among the sea of people in Sankt Jeder's streets, Giad's capital city, nobody recognized them. They were just another Colorata teenagers going for a walk.

Although her nervousness prevented her from acting as carefree as she used to, she still gifted Theoto a heartfelt smile. ❝We can visit the Art supplies shop first. I'm sure we can find something interesting for you.❞

he collapsed.

right. there's a dampness on his forehead. he's draped in a blanket. the wound to his wrist feels bandaged, too. green eyes catch a white suit in the corner.