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Slowly, the reflection stretched his neck. Soft pops met Luka's ringing ears, unnaturally loud in the quiet space. He sighed heavily, stood from the floor, and moved towards that mess of a bed. A gentle hand lifted to caress a poster above the headboard. Blue fingers making little, thoughtful circles.
"You haven't wished her goodnight in so long." The reflection mused. "You wonder if she needs it anymore. If she can hear your voice wherever she is now."
He turned to himself.
"It's not like you to be so impolite to her."
Or: Vignettes all centered within Luka's first six months after the siege on ALNST.
Bookmarked by X9ll
12 Aug 2025

