Chapter Text
He did not attend the meeting. Pomegranate had taken her time chewing him out when he met with her the following day to receive his tasks for the month, but it truthfully did not affect him much. He was gone, body present but mind floating above and drifting about with the currents of air, just barely tethered to his flesh. Nothing seemed to bring Dark Choco back to himself. Like a perfectly practiced dance, his mind numbed itself of everything and anything that could make him think or process any amount of pain. It simply hurt too much to think so he remained a spectator. The Strawberry Jam sword was helpful in this state, disgustingly so. It presented as nothing more than a well crafted greatsword but Choco knew better. He could feel it preening at his misery as he held it in his grasp, almost vibrating with it. Despite the severe sensation of disgust that flooded himself while he wielded it, his grip could never lessen, always tight and wearing his tendons and muscles to the point of pain. When he wasn’t holding it he could still feel it…like..a presence. His upbringing was rooted in logic, but the culture of his home had high respect for the deceased and spirits alike.
Choco had often wondered if he was cursed, or if the sword was. Many sleepless nights would accumulate of mulling over if his bloodlust was his own or influenced by something he couldn’t perceive. It was the ever common back and forth that would last hours, which turned into years now and he was exhausted. He would do little tests a year or two after being banished, after entering Dark Enchantress’ ranks. How long can I go without my sword? How long can I last in a separate room from it? Do the thoughts cease when away from it?
Pathetic.
Every effort netted him little to no relief. It used to be worse. When he first was taken in by their Enchantress he was unable to part with it at all, it would be laid on his bed or beside him at the dining table, a hand always touching the pommel possessively. Putting the blade down in that state gave him great anxiety, and he found himself destroying anything he could. Their leader, even in her astral projected state, was always so clever when it came to him. She saw the way he would ravage and destroy his bedroom, sheets ripped, holes in the walls, his own jam in random places from either biting or scratching himself in the process of breaking furniture. She told him he had potential, that she would help him lessen the pain. He trusted her.
All furnishings were removed from his room aside from a few things, and a padlock affixed on the outside of his door. She said she wanted to make him stronger. She wanted to help him control the sword’s wild magic, he just had to give in.
Choco would be given tasks to clear out beasts or creatures that got too close to the castle, if he failed or hesitated he would be punished. These tasks shifted over time to larger more dangerous things…and then things with a level of sentience,things that satiated his blade for longer. When he would protest he was punished. Her assigned punishment for the exiled prince was being locked inside of his empty dark room, the Strawberry Jam sword taken from him. He would sometimes fight it, try to break down the door or anything he could grasp, tried bartering and then screaming. His body would crave his blade in agonizing ways, leaving him writhing on the floor as seemingly every nerve ending burned. Thoughts of violence and bloodshed consumed him to the point of exhaustion, and only then would the door open, blinding light entering with his leader and giving her an ominous silhouette. He would be given a task. Once she realized this practice made him more frenzied she designated it to him regularly.
It made him into a weapon. Any shred of his past self decimated as he became a hollow husk. The days…weeks being locked inside taught him how to turn his mind off, over time he became less and less responsive to the solitude, his resolve shifting as he grew accustomed. By then the damage to his psyche was done. He was not always obedient, but he was indifferent and it seemed to be exactly where she wanted him. Choco used to only feel the heavy presence of his blade when it was in his grasp, but now it had infected him like a disease. It was constant and he had been broken down to simply exist. He remained this way for years, on autopilot and silent aside from the occasional disagreement with Pomegranate Cookie but admittedly he would sometimes let them escalate so he could simply feel anything. It felt like this was his punishment. His need for power, for approval, had trapped him here and he would live out his days as a thrall for a cause he hated. He didn’t feel alive anymore and it was eating away at what little was left of him.
When Licorice was introduced there was not an immediate connection, no love at first sight, admittedly he could not even remember if he spared him a glance the first day they met. Getting to this rank of their Enchantress’ organization was difficult, seemingly reserved for the devout few who she knew would never disobey her, and Licorice clearly fit that mold. Choco could not stand him at first. The necromancer spoke constantly about absolute nonsense. It was grating. Over time he had been worn down by the others' habit of just speaking at him regardless of whether he answered or not, his replies would always be short and to the point.
Overtime Choco simply sat in his mindless days, allowing his body or maybe his sword to control his movements autonomously throughout his day to day. He simply did not care anymore. He spoke when addressed and listened when needed, face flat and unmoving. This continued for long enough that the years blended together until one night. Licorice had made another mistake, he seemed to be prone to them which was a pity as an underling. It was something so small that Dark Choco could not even recall what it was, but it led to Licorice’s first major argument with Pomegranate. He had heard him sobbing, following the sound and finding him curled up in the garden alone. The Necromancer had a streak of being turbulent with his emotions and Choco was expecting a tome to be thrown at him or to be shouted at to leave him alone but there was nothing.
Licorice cried a lot but he had never seen him so…despondent. Despite his frail frame and immaturity he always held some fire inside himself even in his lowest of times but there was nothing left when he observed him. As Choco watched him he recalled over the past month or two Pomegranate had been focusing her anger on Licorice regularly and over time he was starting to crack. The realization practically hit him upside the head. They were breaking him.
It felt like he was snapped out of his haze almost instantly, moving to sit down beside him. Careful fingers unbuckled his gauntlet and set it aside as he rested his hand on the other’s trembling shoulder. He could feel. Feel the warmth of his body, sympathy and concern for the state he was in. When Licorice threw himself into his arms, sobbing against him, he froze. It took him a moment to reciprocate the hug and he did so gently, just barely embracing him. It had been years since he felt the touch of another so simply, no fear or violence, just an embrace, just comfort. A long buried sliver of his soul twinkled, He felt alive.
After then Choco felt restless, addicted to his presence but too afraid to request it. Fear rested on his shoulders as he felt his misery infecting the fresh bond forming with the necromancer. Memories of himself destroying, biting, devouring seared and his mind would chant endlessly that if he inched any closer it would mean Licorice’s undoing. The warrior tried his hardest to remain unfeeling but it was a hard front to keep up around Licorice. He was lively and the way he would animate every single emotion and thought so clearly, so easily, it felt like a lighthouse on the foggy shore. Pushing away and ignoring any feelings of love was difficult but he was experienced in this. The danger came with Licorice not allowing Choco to distance himself. He would do this by asking for help with small tasks that were nonsensical and that he shouldn’t need assistance for and over time Choco stopped leaving as soon as the task was complete, beginning to linger as Licorice would make it a point to chat with him which led into them sitting down and talking, over time having practically scheduled times to visit with one another.
When Licorice gave him a nickname, that's when he felt helpless. It was just a simple shortening of his name, the necromancer saying something about how ‘Dark Choco’ was too long to say so he was going to shorten it from now on, acting as though Choco wouldn’t have a choice. He knew he could have asked him not to do that, but there was a comfort in the change. It was similar but different enough, comfortable and casual. It felt friendly. He found himself becoming more present when around Licorice which was fairly regularly now, and even when not together he was able to feel at least somewhat content, the fog lifted as he could form thoughts and make decisions without it feeling like he was having to fight tooth and nail to do so in his own body. That was until Pomegranate casted her spell on him for not following their plans. The memories she forced into his mind felt excruciating and after the ordeal he found himself floating again, gone.
Licorice yet again coaxed him into his body, with gentle words and even gentler touches. Choco was not used to such treatment and the sensation of his arms around him felt almost painful. He felt too weak to push away so he succumbed pathetically, allowing himself to be coddled like a crying child. It felt humiliating at first but kindness felt like it was stating some part of himself that had been absolutely starving. He tried to remain strong afterwards. There was an effort to reinforce that he did not want or need comfort, that his feelings were meant to go unseen as it wasn’t useful to have them in the way. Choco couldn’t help but give in, it only getting worse over time. Any offer to stay overnight with the necromancer was eagerly accepted and handsomely rewarded with his touch and care. Licorice never turned down a request from him, openly offering an embrace or anything he could give, and he hated himself for allowing it to go on for so long. Choco knew he loved Licorice for some time now, but knowing does not equate to deserving.
It did not matter how calm he felt with Licorice or how grounded he would become. He had shown time and time again that this dormance was simply that, and at any time on any day he could come to with Licorice dead beneath him. It felt sickening and he had nobody to blame but himself.
And then Choco kissed him.
It felt like the world was crashing down around him, sinking into the darkness further and further with no way above it or out from underneath it, drowning. Suffocating. It had been a month already, the passage of time slipping through his fingers as it so often used to. Dark Choco would complete his tasks, report back, clean the jam off of his armor and blade, and go to sleep. He ate enough to keep him functioning and tactfully hid and avoided Licorice until about the two month mark, the time for their next meeting. He felt his body shaking as he affixed his cloak, the guilt of his stupidity dragging down his pauldrons and nearly choking him. He walked towards his bedroom door and opened it, taking his sword in hand before shutting it behind himself. Once the blade was in his grasp there was nothing again. There was no sensation of walking down the dark hall, no sound of his heavy boots on the tiled floors. He was back inside himself once he was sitting in his chair at the round table, the ringing in his ears fading as Pomegranate’s ramblings took its place. He could feel Licorice staring at him, his gaze alone singing his soul. The details of their next big ploy to thwart Gingerbrave’s group went clear over his head, his name not mentioned in any of them so he did not tune in, until it was, right in the middle of her long winded explanation.
“ - Information was received with details of the Princess Trials, most of them you hopefully won't manage to ruin, Licorice. However…” Her voice lingered as she held her mirror up to cover the lower portion of her face, hiding a grin. “ Perhaps our own exiled Prince could provide some insight, seeing as it correlates with his once noble status.” Pomegranate Cookie spoke calmly, her voice light and borderline preening. Dark Choco’s scarlet eye slowly shifted up, boring into hers. His cold gaze only seemed to add to the humor for her.
“No. I know nothing of use.” He mumbled, voice hoarse from lack of use.
“I can..” Licorice’s voice shook as he interjected, Pomegranate shooting him a glare. “ I-I can handle everything else b-but..there is a trial about a waltz..I uh..I may need assistance with that…If..if you could?” And now both of their gazes rested on Dark Choco. It took all of his willpower to not lash out, to remain calm as his nails dug crescent shaped marks into his palms. He wanted to be alone he did not have the strength for such a thing.
“What a darling idea.” Pomegranate cooed, her eyes twinkling. “ You both may use the hall on the second story, it has enough space for both of you to flounder about.” Choco wanted to bash his head into the table until he expired. “ With that, our meeting is adjourned. “ She said calmly. As soon as the words left her mouth Dark Choco stood up abruptly, his chair being shoved out behind him with the force of it. With his sword sheathed on his hip he quickly walked towards the exit, hearing Licorice scrambling to follow behind him. He shoved open the heavy door and continued his brisk pace down the hall, the door almost hitting Licorice as he followed after him.
“H-hey!” The necromancer called after him, having to almost jog to try and catch up with him. “Hey!” He shouted more angrily. “ Stop ignoring me! We need to talk!”
“I have nothing to say.” Dark Choco said firmly, the two passing the foyer and the staircase to Licorice’s room, down the narrow hall that led to his own. “Quit following me!” He snapped, his words doing nothing to discourage the other.
“You’re doing it again goddamnit! “ Licorice snapped. “ Just-” He heard Licorice’s footsteps stop for a moment before he felt something hook on his ankles, tripping him and sending him to the floor. The dim hallway made it so he missed Licorice’s scythe hooking his feet out from under him. “ I-I didn’t mean for you to- I’m sorry!” Licorice blurted out, the agitation leaving his voice for a moment as he assessed if Choco was alright.
“What is your problem?!” Choco shouted, his voice uncharacteristically loud as he shifted to face Licorice from his place on the ground to glare at him.
“ Right now it’s you!” Licorice shouted back, quickly slipping back into his own anger. There was a period of silence between them, both of their breathing labored as their eyes bore into each other, neither breaking eye contact. “ Two months, Choco? A week okay, but two months?!” He snapped. “ You promised! You promised you wouldn't shut me out like this again!”
“ I am not obligated to share every single waking thought I have with you.” He muttered as he rose to his feet, turning to walk away again when Licorice reached out and grabbed him by the wrist. He yanked his arm back, breaking the touch between them with a ferocity he didn’t intend. “ Leave me!” He cried, voice raw and aching. Licorice looked wounded, flinching. Dark Choco turned away and stalked off down the halls quickly. His head was spinning and once he was back inside his room he collapsed on his bed, curling into himself to try and ease his shaking limbs.
During the period of several weeks they did not speak to each other, finishing off the month with no contact since their argument in the hallway. He knew once he heard the knock on the door that the time had come. It was the day Licorice and his familiars were due to leave for the Hollyberry Kingdom, and opening the door revealed Pomegranate who had quickly began scolding him for slacking on his part and demanding he go to help Licorice with the finishing touches of his preparation. He sighed as he obeyed, moving out of his room and shutting the door behind himself, the two going in opposite directions. Down the opposite side of the hall from his bedroom door was another wing of the castle with a small study and a staircase leading up two flights to the next highest floor. He had only ascended it once before to learn the layout, it was mostly used for storage, high ceilings and tall stained glass windows giving the large hallway of doors a wash of red and purple light as the midday sun illuminated them. He took his time walking down the hall, each step feeling heavier than the last as he approached the room designated for their ‘practice’. His heart ached as his mind raced, holding a hand to his chest in an attempt to soothe himself. A deep breath filled his lungs, exhaling it silently as he opened the door and entered.
The room was large with mirrors strewn about of varying types and sizes, a large circle in the middle void of anything. The wall and floors were dark much like every other room in the castle and it had the same almost floor to ceiling windows, the only difference being that these were not made with stained glass, the room filling with calm light instead. It only brought him mild ease which was gone as soon as he saw Licorice sitting in a nearby armchair with his face buried in a tome. He could not will his vocal chords to speak or his body to move, his gaze resting on the other. Dredges of affection formed like vines in his ribcage, Choco had missed him and he hated it. It took a moment before Licorice looked up from what he was reading.
“ Took you long enough.” He mumbled, shifting his book off his lap into his place on the chair as he stood up. Choco remained by the door, stuck in place. He felt uncomfortable, dressed in his casual clothing instead of his armour. It was a vulnerable feeling that he usually would not mind with Licorice but in this state it was crushing. “ Come here, we don’t have all day.” He said once he noticed Choco’s stagnance. With a good amount of force he managed to walk over to the other in the center of the room, arms crossed.
“ There is no music.” Choco stated quietly.
“Well there would have been music if you came the day you were supposed to, I had to beg one of my summons to try and learn some waltz music and you never even showed.” Licorice grumbled, his eyes on the floor.
“ I am sorry.” Choco whispered, feeling his hands shake as he fought to contain his own emotions.
“And…I’m sorry for tripping you..I was just trying to slow you down, I didn't expect you to topple over.” The necromancer rambled, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
“ It is fine…lets just begin.” He said calmly, hollow. He gave a brief run down on the very basics of a waltz, the necessary rhythms and steps and positioning. When it came time for them to practice they both stalled for a moment. “ I will lead.”
“What if I want to lead?” Licorice asked briskly.
“...Would you prefer to?” Choco asked, not much fight in his voice. His body and mind were both tired from the stress, from the silence.
“Well yeah, kinda.” Licorice answered swiftly. “J-just because, since I’ll have to show Schwarz how to do it I should probably…”
Choco could tell he was not being entirely honest, the way his eyes were wide and scanning his face, trying to detect any signs of suspicion. It was endearing. “ I take it that is who is playing the princess for the trials?” He asked as they shifted into position, Licorice’s arm snaking around his waist and back while his own hand rested on Licorice’s shoulder. As their free hands met, fingers entwining gently, Choco felt his heart ache. They were too close together and he found himself teetering on that metaphorical edge of affection. His skin was warm and the scent of his flavor was muddling his mind. There was some space between them as they began dancing, Choco softly counting their steps to keep in rhythm in place of music.
“Heh, yeah. I was worried Pomegranate cookie was going to try to make me do it but he offered.” Licorice answered pleasantly as he struggled with his footing, cursing softly.
“Harder than you expected it to be?” Choco asked, a hint of a smile in his words.
“Shut up.” Licorice grumbled. Despite the words there was no malice in his voice, instead focusing on fixing his steps as they both fell in tandem again. “...So…Are we going to talk about it?” Choco’s counting paused as his breathing stuttered, giving away his frayed nerves beneath his stoic facade.
“I do not know what you mean.” As the words fell from his lips he could feel the other staring at him, unable to bring himself to make eye contact.
“Enough, enough of the avoiding and ignoring..please just…” The necromancer’s words started out angry but quickly became upset instead. “Please” The way he sounded made Choco’s hands tremble, guilt welling up inside his chest around his lovesick heart.
“...I did not mean to…to do that..”
“To kiss me?” Licorice whispered, his usual overconfident front was absent, replaced by a quiet and insecure reality. Replaced with an equally uncomfortable vulnerability. It made Choco feel lightheaded. “I-if you’re afraid I was uncomfortable with it I wasn’t, I lov- I really liked it…”
“It was a mistake.” Choco said firmly, hands still shaking as he felt like his body was shutting down. As if his own emotional turmoil was beginning to make him sick.
“Liar.” Licorice mumbled, no longer dancing around the room with him but shifting into more of a slow dance, closing the space between them a bit more as he pulled Choco closer.
“You know nothing.” The warrior said roughly, his nervousness melting into agitation. He knew his own feelings. It was a mistake and there was no other way to look at it.
“I know you...I bet you hate that don’t you?” Licorice asked as he held Choco closer, embracing him gently as he tilted his face to nuzzle it to the others. He could hear the smugness in his voice, something Choco half expected.
“I believe that you care about that more than I do.” He responded in a dull murmur.
“That’s another thing that tells me you’ve got something on your mind, you get crabby.” The necromancer mumbled. There was a dreadful pause of silence as they both swayed together slowly, still trying to feign the concept of dancing rather than just enjoying each others presence. “...Do you not like me?”
“...I like you a lot…But I cannot..” Choco was trying to explain his reasoning in a way that was coherent, that relayed the danger they would be in if anyone found out, but his voice failed him like it had many times before. He expected Licorice to snap at him, reasonably so. That fire that seemed to always burn inside him seemed extinguished.
“Why can’t you? If..if it’s something I do or say just tell me and I can change.” Licorice spoke quickly, borderline desperately.
“ No, it is nothing like that at all.” He clarified swiftly.
“Then tell me!” Choco finally shifted his gaze to look at the necromancer as he heard his voice crack. Licorice was teary eyed, the bags under his eyes noticeably worse and the sunken in skin looked almost bruised from his exhaustion. His eyes were bloodshot. He yearned to touch and comfort, to show he was sorry with feather light kisses under each eye.
“I..” It felt like sandpaper rubbing against his vocal chords trying to get himself to speak. Pure agony from simply making an attempt to say something, anything. He could feel himself slipping again as his soul tried to curl in on itself, to protect itself, but a gentle squeeze from the necromancer’s hand that held his own eased him back to himself. “I am afraid.” It came out as a whisper, red eye sinking down away from Licorice’s face. “This…this is not safe…I do not want my own selfish needs to put you in danger.” He could feel the others stare fixated on him, intent and clinging to his words.
“Uh, last time I checked the feeling is mutual, dingbat! It’s not just your needs!” Licorice snapped. “And what's with this pity party? I mean I know you brood and get all moody but I’m not defenseless! I can take care of myself! I’ve been doing it my whole life!” He spoke more confidently, the arm around his waist tightening once more. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me like the plague?” His voice softened once he noticed Choco’s shoulders tensing, starting to close him off again. Licorice carefully let go of the others hand and cupped his face instead, choco nearly melting into it. “Pfft…geez, and I thought I was the one freaking out.”
His touch numbed his mind, not in a hollow cold way, but a kind way. Safe. It felt safe. “I did not mean to imply that you were weak…I just.” He allowed himself to be pulled closer into a hug, his face tucking into the crook of his neck.
“I know.” Licorice cooed softly, hand on the back of Choco’s head as he held him.
“I..just worry for you…I do not want to hurt you…” His voice was quiet, muffled against the fabric of the others robes.
“Hm, feels like we just talked about something like this.” Choco could hear the grin in Licorice’s voice as he spoke, the chuckle he let out. “...you pushing me away hurts me…would..can we at least try?” He asked, a nervous tremor slipping into his words.
“...Licorice..” Choco mumbled, voice laden with misery he could not hide.
“Nobody will find out! I-I’ve already been thinking of meeting places for us, so we can be around each other without it being suspicious, I mean there will still be times where we have to lay low but I think we could-”
Choco pulled back, silencing his swift ramblings with a kiss. It was soft, not as heated as their previous one. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against the necromancer’s. “...Okay.” He whispered, opening his eyes to look at Licorice. His pale golden eyes were wide as his answer sunk in. It…admittedly he worried he may have broken him, Licorice staring at him dumbfounded. He was trying to speak but his words were just a stammered mess of syllables. Choco felt a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips, it felt foreign, unable to recall the last time he genuinely smiled at someone. He couldn’t stop it as he cupped the other’s face gently, his scarred hands a contrast to Licorice’s rather clear complexion. Licorice’s eyes faltered down for a moment, to his lips, his smile, and now it was his turn to melt.
“..Your smile is so perfect..I love it when you smile for me.” Licorice breathed, Choco did not miss the almost possessive tone beneath his words. He was swiftly pulled down into another kiss, it felt heavenly, the weight of his concerns lifting as he was held, as he was loved. Free from the worries of unrequited feelings Choco could swear he felt their souls entwining, dancing together in tandem. He felt alive with every burning touch along his waist and shoulder. The kiss continued. It wasn’t carnal, but rather soft hearted, the long desired want to be connected satiated. The kiss broke as Licorice trailed some pecks down his cheek to his jawline. Choco felt a light dusting of blush on his face, his sepia skin thankfully making it harder to notice.
“We should get back to practicing.” He murmured as his head was guided to lull to the side by a hand on the back of his neck, thumb under his chin to keep it skewed to the side as he felt the others lips along his throat. When he felt Licorice’s teeth grazing his skin along the way he gently pushed his shoulder. “Enough already, we have work to get done.”
“Yeah yeah, We can get to it in a sec..” Licorice mumbled, voice muffled against Choco’s skin as he gently used his fingers to shift aside the fabric of his shirt, kisses trailing down to the joint of his neck near his collarbone.
“You are meant to be leaving soon…” Choco chided, a twinge of sadness in his quiet voice. Licorice hummed in acknowledgement, arm wrapping more tightly around his waist.
“What? You gonna miss me or something?” The necromancer teased, a glimmer of humor in his eyes. His teeth sunk into his soft flesh, Choco’s breath hitching. He wanted to complain but the placement would be fine, somewhere that nobody else would see at the very least.
“Yes.” Choco admitted openly, Licorice seeming to stall as he processed it. “I do not want to be without you.” He hated how pathetic it sounded, he didn’t need his company...he would be fine..yet he still was dreading it, dreading being alone. Licorice's mouth let go of his skin, a dark love bite left in its wake.
“I never took you for the clingy type.” Licorice mumbled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s only a month, honestly it’s not even a fair punishment for ignoring me for two months! “ He wailed dramatically, earning a chuckle from Choco.
“I am sorry.” Choco murmured, corners of his lips tugging into a smile. The pair locked eyes, and the vulnerability of being seen was uncomfortable but Choco ignored it. He opened his mouth to speak but a abrupt set of loud knocks on the door made them both flinch apart, Licorice practically throwing himself into the armchair he was in before pretending to read, tome upside down, while Choco quickly leaned on the armrest of the chair, trying to seem like he was reading over his shoulder.
“Meowster!!” Bat-cat yowled as it used its long bony tail to open the door, gliding in the room towards its owner. Licorice stood up and closed the tome, Bat-cat perching itself on his shoulder. “Mew are supposed to be leaving ne-ow!” It mewled.
“I-I know! “ Licorice complained, shooting a look at his familiar. He turned around, looking up at Choco who was already staring down at him. “Thank you for the…help.” He said slowly, gaze flicking down to the taller’s lips briefly. “I..i’ll see you around.” It seemed like a struggle for him to behave naturally, or as close to normal as he could get anyways. Choco found it sweet.
“Anytime.” Choco answered calmly, his facade much more practiced and easy to form. “Stay safe, Licorice.” He added as the necromancer began walking away, not missing the way his shoulders tensed at the sound of his own name.
The room felt less light when Licorice left, closing the door behind himself. The light seeping in through the windows was warm of course, yellow beams of sunlight dancing through the glass panes and painting everything it touched in its golden glow, everything but Choco it seemed. The pit in his stomach formed once more, lessened but still nagging. The exhaustion from doing the bare minimum to survive for the past however many days had begun catching up to him, the emotional intensity wiping whatever energy he had left. His body was aching, too tired to eat and too hungry to sleep. He groaned as he pushed himself off the arm chair, moseying out of the room and down the halls. He did not mind the discomfort as much, not with the warmth wrapped around his heartstrings anyway.