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Trudging out past the gates of the cemetery, Sin spotted an unfamiliar silhouette up by his house. Squinting in the dark, he tried to make out what exactly he was looking at. The silhouette was a strange one… perhaps someone sitting on a horse? No, that wasn’t right, it wasn’t tall enough…
The weather was cold, especially at night. Sharp winds were a regular occurrence by now, though Sin managed to stay warm. Although he would prefer to wear something lighter, he had taken to wearing a thicker coat when he went out to tend to the graves. Sun set earlier and it rose later now, but Sin didn’t see it as much of a disruption, even if he did go through candles much quicker now.
As he approached the strange figure, Sin soon recognized the telltale shape of a car and seemingly with someone sitting on the hood. The hunched cat closed in and once he was about thirty feet away, the person sitting on the car made themselves known.
“Ah, hi, Sin!” a familiar, happy voice called out as a younger cat slid off the hood of the parked car. At first, Sin didn’t initially recognize his silhouette, given that tonight, Mort wore a considerably thicker coat than Sin had previously seen him in. It gave him a bulkier outline in the dark, but as he got closer, Sin’s lantern shone its light on Mort, revealing the features he was so familiar with by now; the wide, fluffy cheeks, perky, dark-gray ears, that pentagonal dark gray patch on his face, his little heart-shaped nose and of course, those bright blue eyes of his.
“What in God’s name are you doing here this time of night? Why aren’t you at home in bed?” Sin asked, almost sounding like a parent scolding a child for being up late. Though he looked and sounded disapproving, a small part of him was happy to see Mort.
“Oh, I have slept, don’t worry.” Mort tried his best to stifle a yawn, earning a snort from Sin. “I just got up and I wanted to come and see you. Spent all yesterday recording a big Thanksgiving thing – it’ll be on the air while I’m out of town.”
“Visiting your family in Tennessee, correct?” Sin remembered that Mort had told him. He supposed he’d be leaving a few days early to make it on time. “Where exactly is it that they live over there?”
“Oh my grandparents’ farm is up in Dresden. It’s really nice, it’s a small town,” the young cat said with a smile. “It’s definitely nothing like St. Louis, such a big city.”
“Must have been quite a culture shock to move here then,” Sin noted, trying to imagine that. He certainly knew he wouldn’t much fancy moving from his quiet little home out here and into St. Louis proper. Small town family moving to the big city… Sin wondered if Mort’s parents also hid their Tennessee accent like he did or if they openly spoke with it. He hadn’t heard Mort using it much, but each time he had, Sin couldn’t deny that it had a certain charm to it.
“Oh, yeah, that was fifteen years ago, but I remember – fitting in was hard when ya’ talk funny ‘n no one else does,” Mort said, intentionally slipping into that southern accent. He gave a light little chuckle, even if he still seemed embarrassed to be using it. “It’s part of why I don’t normally use that accent when I can – makes me sound like a real hillbilly.”
“I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of,” Sin said, looking Mort over again. “So tell me, you plan on staying? Because I already did my rounds…”
“Oh, I’d love to, but I can’t really stay long, I need to pick up my parents and drive ‘em to the station,” the younger cat said. His dark gray tail gave a soft flick behind him. He moved on in closer to Sin. “And I just wanted to stop by and say that I appreciate you – you know in the spirit of giving thanks.”
“Oh. Well, that’s nice of you, Mort,” the older cat said, looking and sounded rather startled. Whatever he’d expected Mort to have come for, this clearly hadn’t been it. “I’m thankful for you wanting to spend your time with an old ghost like me.”
Upon hearing this, Mort stepped towards Sin, spreading his arms for a hug, but he was stopped by a single, white, slender finger. The pad of the older cat’s index finger pressed to Mort’s forehead, Sin using his surprising strength to keep the younger cat firmly in place. “… too much?”
“Just a bit…” the older cat grumbled down at Mort, the younger cat looking rather disappointed. Sin gave a small smile as he removed his finger and ruffled the fur on Mort’s head. “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t do hugs.”
“Oh, nothing wrong with that,” Mort said in a slightly forced upbeat tone. He looked down for a moment, not meeting Sin’s eyes, ears pressed back against his head. “I- uhm… uh…”
“Yes?”
“Oh, nothing, I should get going – let you get some sleep too,” the young cat said hurriedly, a bit too fast to be truly natural. He smiled up at the tall, hunched grave-keeper, holding out his hand, wanting to see if he’d shake it. “I hope you have a pleasant week – I’ll be back Sunday night.”
Sin’s three slender fingers closed themselves around Mort’ s , giving the younger man’s hand a proper, albeit brief shake. “Thank you, and I hope you have a pleasant trip as well, my boy.”
Beaming, Mort returned to the car and got inside. As the engine roared to life, Sin flinched slightly. He truly did hate the noises cars made, but he wasn’t in much of a position to ask Mort to turn it off – otherwise the poor boy would have to push the thing till he was out of range. Waving him off briefly, Sin returned to his home, putting out his lantern and turning the lights on inside.
Indeed, the Chezk home hadn’t seen much in the way of Thanksgiving celebrations since Sin started living there all on his own. His parents had mostly stuck with it out of tradition, but it wasn’t a tradition that Sin had upheld since their passing. Nor was it something he particularly missed. Holidays didn’t mean much to Sin himself, it meant more to the deceased, seeing as many relatives came out to see them during the more sentimental holidays. And if nothing else, he could at least appreciate th at fact .
Sin on the other hand didn’t have much else on his plate for the remainder of the night. He was getting used to Mort’s semi-regular visits, but he was glad the younger cat was getting to take a break to himself as well. Going to see his family sounded like it’d be good for him. After all, he still had the option to. Sin didn’t know what Mort’s home-life had been like before he moved out, but he hoped his family had been more loving than his own.
While Sin didn’t resent his parents, he had never felt much warmth from them. He knew that other families were different, but that was their business. The old grave-keeper was pleased with how his life had gone and where it currently was. He had a job to keep him busy, a job that he enjoyed and a job that made a difference, at least to the deceased. And at the very least, now he had a friend.
As the black 1927 Peerless pulled into the station, Mort parked it nice and properly outside. The station appeared decently busy, seemingly others were of a similar mindset, wanting to make it out of town for Thanksgiving early. Mort was pleased that they’d be arriving a few days before Thanksgiving itself; he could only imagine how busy the train might be the day before.
He was joined by three other people for the journey and they all got out of the car as well, before grabbing their luggage. Emerging from the passenger seat in front was Mort’s Aunt Rose. She was a short, but lean woman of 34 with long brown hair tied up into an elaborate braid that draped over her left shoulder. She had a similar fur pattern to Mort, her fur primarily beige, but where the fur on Mort’s face, ears, and limbs was dark gray, his Aunt Rose had chocolate brown. She had the same blue eyes as her sister, Mort and his mother.
Aunt Rose had always been a bit of a free spirit; against convention, she’d yet to settle down and start a family. She enjoyed her freedom and though Mort had no way to confirm it, he had a sneaking suspicion that she might be the type to visit underground drinking establishments, such as the one he currently worked for. Thank god he hadn’t run into her at Marigold at least…
Jolene Blakely had paler, almost grayish fur all over and her accent fur was likewise a medium gray, a few tones lighter than Mort’s. Mort’s mother had short auburn hair and she stood a head taller than her younger sister. She was nine years older than Rose and unlike her, she had very much taken on the more traditional role of a housewife.
The two sisters had moved from Dresden, Tennessee to St. Louis fifteen years ago when Mort was just a small child. According to Jolene, it had been Mort’s father, Joshua who had wanted to move out to St. Louis where he had his roots.
Joshua was a comparatively tall Siamese cat with a body toned from working at the Blakely family farm for years. He was a bit of an unusual man. Joshua had no living family on his side and he’d come to Tennessee in search of work. At the time, he’d been a drifter, much like Mort had as a young adult. His fur was beige like Mort’s, but his darker fur was almost black. Mort just so happened to be somewhere in between his mother and father’s accent fur tones.
Mort had inherited a few facial features from his mother, and seeing as both Joshua and Jolene had bright blue eyes, Mort’s eyes were unsurprisingly just as bright blue. It was a family trait for sure – even Rose had the same eye color.
“Alright, we all ready? Remember everything’?” Jolene asked as she closed the car door she’d exited from. Unlike Mort, Jolene and Rose never attempted to hide their Tennessee accent. Mort used it when he visited his parents, of course. That said, he also couldn’t help but feel like it made his father feel somewhat left out – or at the very least feel like the odd one out – seeing as he was the only member of the family who wasn't a Tennessee native.
“Yes, no need to worry,” Joshua said casually as he too closed the car door. As Mort locked down the car, he mentally double and triple checked. Yes… yeah surely… While he was gone, with that prerecorded broadcast playing on Thanksgiving Day, no one would know that he was gone.
Well, Sin would at least. And Mr. Sweet…
Mort was honestly relieved to be going away from Marigold’s reach. He was surprised that Mr. Sweet had so eagerly allowed him to go, but he wasn’t going to complain about that fact. He supposed Mr. Sweet might be a bit of a family man.
And still, Mort couldn’t help but think of Sin being all alone for Thanksgiving. The old grave-keeper had indeed made it sound like it wasn't much of anything to worry about, and yet Mort wished he had accepted his offer to come along.
“Mort, you lookin’ concerned. Did you forget something?” Aunt Rose asked playfully, chuckling to herself as the four Siamese cats walked towards the station.
“What? Oh no, I’ve got everything, Rose, don’t you worry,” Mort said, putting on a smile for the older cat. As the four of them waited on the platform, Mort almost wanted to cry. This was the first time since he’d been hired by Marigold that he'd be away from them and actually be with his family. The constant unease that came with the job washed away as their train pulled into the station.
He was going home now, to his family’s farm where he could be himself and pretend like Blaine Morrison was someone else. Someone he didn’t know.
As soon as Mort slipped into his seat on the train, he turned his head and gazed out of the window, watching as they rolled out of the station. The sense of relief was so strong he did indeed smile like an idiot, and when the time-passing conversations started, Mort’s Tennessee accent came out in full force. He wasn’t afraid to hide it with his family.
“So, how’s work been lately, Mort? You sure been makin’ me laugh, you know,” Aunt Rose asked after a small bit of silence. Mort shifted in his seat slightly, face tightening. Rose just smiled at him, she knew full-well that it wasn't something Mort wanted to exactly discuss in public like this.
“It’s been good…” he started slowly, unable to mask his discomfort. “Just same ol’, same ol’, really. But I’ve been havin’ fun when I can. It really ain't all that excitin’.”
“Oh, hogwash!” Rose exclaimed with a loud chuckle. “Tell ya’ what, I’ll just wait till we’re off this darn train to ask – I can take a hint. So tell me, you still ain’t found a girl, eh?”
Mort thought that was a rather rich question from someone who was also still single and was constantly hounded by her parents to find a man, but he kept that to himself. He knew both he and Rose would get the same questions from Mort’s grandparents as soon as they turned up on the farm. “Uh… N o, can’t say I have… Ain’t real high on my priority list.”
“Maybe it should be, you ain’t getting’ any younger, Mort,” Jolene so helpfully reminded him. Mort’s face tightened again, but he let his mother continue. “But I s’pose that flat of yours ain’t much of a place to live with someone else, now is it? You could be livin’ high on the hog right now, if it weren't for that darn place.”
She wasn't wrong. Had Mort not taken out the loan for his place, odds were he could be living somewhere far nicer and bigger. But the convenience of it being where he did his broadcasts had been what had driven him to it. And besides, he didn’t mind the limited space too much. Mort knew what Sin would say…
Sin…
Casting another glance out the window as Rose took to defending Mort’s choice in domicile, Mort thought back to the old grave-keeper once again. What was he getting up to? Surely he was still resting . Was he eating breakfast? Or would that be dinner? Was he even awake? Mort wasn’t sure. A small part of him wished he’d stayed behind in St. Louis to keep him company on Thanksgiving, but Mort knew that would be a hard sell with his parents. Only viable way that they’d allow that was if he had indeed found a girl. Potentially. Mort supposed Sin wouldn’t quite make the cut.
The train ride was a long one and Mort fell asleep several times, dozing in his seat beside Aunt Rose. Mort didn’t fancy sleeping on a train, if he were alone – he harbored a fear of suddenly waking up far away from his destination. But luckily Mort was woken up before anything like that could happen. But of course, even then, their journey wasn't over just yet.
What awaited after the long train ride was a car ride. Mort’s uncle Jackson picked them up. Of the three siblings, he was the oldest, being 45, just like Joshua. He was a tall, stout man, which was a bit of a departure from his siblings, who both had rather lean builds. Uncle Jackson’s fur color resembled Rose’s more than anything, being beige with dark chocolate brown accents.
Mort had always enjoyed his uncle Jackson’s company. He’d been the one to teach Mort how to play guitar when he was young. He also did enjoy sharing funny stories, especially involving happenings on the Blakely family farm from before Mort was born.
“Well, howdy, howdy, city slickers,” the Chocolate Point Siamese greeted the four of them. He was dressed in a pair of denim pants, a blue dress shirt and a brown leather vest. He also wore black boots that reached up to his shins and a brown cowboy hat. It had been quite a while since Mort had last seen anyone in such a getup, but it was a comforting sight.
“Oh don’t be mad just ‘cause we don’t trudge through dirt all day,” Rose said playfully before giving her older brother a hug. Jolene had barely gotten the chance to do the same before Rose threw her suitcase into Jackson’s arms. She grinned at her brother who just barely caught it. “There, you don’t mind, do you? I am but a meek city woman.”
“Don’t mind one bit,” he said playfully, before reaching over to ruffle the fur on top of Mort’s head. “And how’s my favorite li’l superstar?”
“Oh no need to exaggerate,” Mort insisted as he helped Jackson load their luggage into the car he’d arrived in. it wasn't anywhere near as nice or pristine as the one Mort was borrowing from Marigold, but he honestly didn’t mind – he did worry to an unnecessary degree about keeping the car he borrowed as clean as he could.
“No need to exaggerate, he says. Oh, as if you ain't a real Carl Sprague type, Morty!” the older Siamese cat said playfully, patting his nephew’s back. “We really ought to get y’all into some proper clothes, though. You’re all standin’ out like a sunflower in a field o’ daisies.”
As Mort glanced around, he started noticing more people in what many would consider stereotypical southern attire. It was such a welcomed change for him, however. He was home.
The Blakely family farm was located near Dresden, a small one-horse town quite a drive away from the station. No one was particularly talkative, save for Joshua and Jackson, who both discussed work in front. Mort mostly zoned out, head resting against the window as he glanced out at the changing landscape. Though they weren't as beautiful and vibrant as they were in summer, when Mort saw the sunflower fields, he couldn’t help but smile. He'd spent so much time as a small child wandering through those. He’d even gotten lost on occasion, but he’d always find his way back home.
“… but luckily the new farmhand’s been such a good help. Boy sure knows what he’s doing.” Mort perked up a bit and glanced over at the backs of his father and uncle’s heads. A new farmhand? That was a bit unusual, Mort thought. He didn’t recall his grandparents ever hiring farmhands before, but he supposed as they got older, managing the farm and everything did become harder.
“What’s he like? Is he from town?” Joshua asked curiously. Mort averted his gaze again and glanced out of the window as the fields slowly rolled past.
“Oh no, he’s from out’a town. Some stranger; tall guy, very strong and he knows what he’s doin’. He’s been a life saver with the harvest, lemme tell ya’, Joshua.”
Mort could see the farm approaching up ahead, the familiar barn and house that he’d grown up around. The farm wasn't as big as some of the neighboring ones, but the grounds were wide and expansive. Though they currently looked quite barren, corn fields and sunflower fields surrounded the farm. They didn’t have a lot of livestock on the farm, save for chickens. Mort had helped tend to the chickens since he was a child – and he distinctly remembered being chased around the coop by a rooster more than once.
They also had horses on the farm, one of which belonged to Mort. They had stables to themselves, the horses primarily being used for labor around the farm and for transport. Mort had spent much time riding up and down the countryside on his trusty horse.
As a matter of fact, as they entered the grounds around the Blakely farm, Mort saw his own horse coming to greet them. Ban-Ban was a gray stallion with a black mane. Like most of the horses on the farm, he had a robust, strong build and Mort had ridden him for years since he was about seven. But Ban-Ban wasn't running wild. No, someone was riding him, a tall figure Mort couldn’t see properly from the backseat.
“Ah that’s him right there,” Mort heard Jackson saying from the driver’s seat. Mort tried his best to get a proper look, but the car stopped before he got the chance. “Welcome home, y’all.”
The Blakely farm house was a two-story home with a facade of white planks. The house overall had an L shape, a roof covering the porch outside by the front door. Mort had spent many summer nights stargazing on said roof, given that his bedroom window led right out to it. Thankfully, the roof tiles weren’t prone to sliding.
Stepping out of the car, Mort finally got a good, proper look at the person riding his old horse. Before he could even process the fact that some stranger rode his horse, the Siamese cat’s eyes widened. Seated on top of Ban-Ban was a tall barn cat with a strong build, amplified by how fluffy his cheek and neck fur was. His fur was tones of brown, darker around his face and on his ears, much like Mort. His eyebrows were a lighter brown, a dark beige, as was a small patch on his chin. His eyes were blue, like Mort and his family’s, but darker. The new farmhand was dressed in a dark navy dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows along with a pair of blue denim jeans.
And worst of all, Mort recognized him.
“Well, if it ain’t someone I know! Howdy, Morty!” Mort had tried to duck away and help unload the car when he was addressed, freezing mid duck, before slowly turning back to face the farmhand as he dismounted Mort’s horse.
“Ah, Kevin, how’re you doin’? Didn’t expect to see you ‘round here…” Mort said, putting up an awkward sort of smile.
“Hold on, you two know each other?” Joshua asked curiously, looking between the two. Kevin was over a foot taller than Mort, leaving the Siamese cat to look positively diminutive by comparison. He was taller than all of them, though Joshua and Jackson were the closest in height to the barn cat.
“Oh yes, we used to-”
“Work together! We worked together back when I was over in Nashville,” Mort quickly blurted out. Everyone stared at him as he sounded quite alarmed. Kevin looked rather amused, fixing the shorter cat with a smirk that showed off his gold tooth, which only made Mort more nervous.
“Ah yeah that’s right – been a few years, ain’t it? A whole five years, if I still remember how to count good,” the taller cat said playfully, before he mercifully went about greeting everyone else. Mort took the opportunity to hurry and unload the car, carrying as much as he could, as he hurried up to the house. However, Mort hadn't even made it halfway to the house before the door opened and his grandparents Romeo and Jeannie stopped Mort in his tracks to greet him.
Romeo was a tall, older cat with a similar light fur color as Jolene, though his fur was speckled with quite a bit of silver at this point as well. He had a stout build, much like Mort’s uncle Jackson and he was dressed in a pair of denim pants and a jacket over a blue shirt. He also had a chunk of his left ear missing from an accident in his youth (the details of which seemed to change every time he told the tale).
Jeannie looked quite similar to Rose and Jackson with her beige fur and chocolate brown accents. She had a similarly strong build to her husband and she even wore similar attire to her husband, save for lacking a jacket.
“Now, now, hold your horses, kiddo, where’s the fire?” Romeo asked as he stopped Mort by stepping in front of him, fixing him with an almost suspicious look.
“Oh, I just wanted to get this stuff inside that’s all,” Mort said, a flimsy excuse to get away from a potentially awkward reunion. When he saw the suspicious looks on their faces, Mort put up his most convincing smile, putting Jolene and Joshua’s suitcases down and moved in towards Jeannie. “But not without givin’ my mamaw a hug, of course…”
Once said hug had commenced, Mort was grateful to excuse himself into the farm house. He knew where to bring everything; he brought his parents’ suitcases to what used to be their old bedroom, knowing full well that they’d be staying there. It was the largest bedroom in the house, located up on the top floor where it overlooked the area in front of the house. Mort caught glimpses of his family as they made their way inside, Jackson carrying Mort and Rose’s suitcases.
“Oh, Mort, dear, could you come down here for a bit?” Mort hadn't even gotten a chance to go into what used to be his childhood bedroom when he heard his grandmother calling him.
Mort hurried down the stairs, passing his uncle, finding all but Kevin in the living room. Said living room was large and very tidy. It had a lot of old furniture that had been handed down for generations and even a small corner where an old piano stood, alongside a couple of guitars, the ones Jackson himself played and the one Mort had been using when he was learning how to play. It was an old six-string that in all honesty barely looked like it was holding together at this point.
On the walls, family portraits that stretched back quite a few generations hung, showing some of Mort’s more distant relatives, ones who had since left Tennessee.
Joshua and Romeo had already occupied the large couch in front of the fireplace where they were loudly conversing, while Rose and Jolene had settled in by the dining table.
“So, what is it, mamaw?” Mort asked his grandmother, who waited by the bottom of the stairs. “Do you need help with anythin’?”
“Oh, it’s Kevin, dear. He’s out with the horses, he said he needed some help. You don’t mind, do you?” In actuality, Mort did mind, but he wasn't going to say that. He just smiled at Jeannie as Jackson came back downstairs and told her that it was no trouble at all.
He left the house and made his way over to the large, red barn where the horses were kept. Kevin waited for him by a fence post, petting Ban-Ban as he watched Mort approaching. “You sure you don’t want to change first? I can come upstairs and help you-”
“I’m good, thanks,” Mort said quickly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening in. Once he felt more at ease, he turned back to the taller cat, who was smirking at him again. “So, you been well? Wasn't expecting to find you here of all places…”
“And here I thought you weren't happy to see me – you weren't tryin’ to avoid me, were ya’? Walk with me, Morty,” Kevin said, immediately sliding an arm around Mort and guiding him along as Ban-Ban trudged along beside the two. “So I heard you’re livin’ high on the hog way on over in Missouri now, is that right?”
“Yeah… I do miss it here, though,” Mort said, clearing his throat slightly. Being around Kevin again was awkward enough to begin with – having the tall cat’s arm around him didn’t help. Mort tried to figure out how to politely tell him off, but as they continued on their way, Mort’s mind was drawn to other things as he took in the familiar surroundings.
“Miss me, did ya’?” Kevin asked as he leaned in closer, his voice almost a purr.
“I- uh… Look, it’s been a while since-” Mort trailed off and felt the larger cat’s hold on him falter. “… You know. A lot of stuff’s changed and-”
“Oh, you’re with someone back home, s’that it? You should’a just told me, Morty, I didn’t mean to overstep,” Kevin said, removing his arm, although he did give Mort a pat on the back as the latter opened the large barn door for them. Mort hadn’t given an answer, but he also wasn't going to contradict the bigger cat. “A shame, though. You and I, we were quite… something, weren’t we?”
Mort’s face burned under his fur as he just nodded silently, trying not to be too awkward about it. Mort followed Kevin inside the stables. It felt strange seeing someone so readily interacting with his horse, but Mort didn’t mind it too much. Ban-Ban seemed to trust Kevin and that was good enough for him. “So… you didn’t tell my folks about… you know… right?”
“Of course I did – told ‘em I was going to ask your father for your hand in marriage too.” When Kevin saw the alarmed look on Mort’s face, the bigger cat burst out laughing. “Oh, come now, you didn’t lose your sense of humor in those five years, did ya’? You always used to laugh at my jokes.”
“Well, I did, yeah, but… I just wouldn't know, you sounded like you were serious,” Mort scoffed, ears laid back slightly as he stroked Ban-Ban’s face, the horse tossing his head slightly, before pressing it against Mort, nudging him affectionately. The Siamese cat ran his fingers through the stallion’s thick, but smooth mane. “Seems like you’ve been takin’ good care of my friend here. Been through a lot together he and I.”
“Of course – I’d never neglect my… friend’s horse. He’s a good one too,” Kevin said as he waited for Mort to join him. The Siamese cat offered his equine companion a few more pats, before he closed the gate to his stall and joined the larger cat. “Hey, I’m sorry if me bein’ here is makin’ things weird. But it really is nice to see you, though – even if we ain’t…”
“I know… It’s nice seein’ you again. But let’s just… be friendly for now.” Mort extended a hand to Kevin as they exited the stables, the bigger cat fixing Mort with a surprised look, but he shook the smaller, almost dainty hand nonetheless.
“A pleasure, Mr. Blakely,” Kevin said playfully. He winked at Mort, before they made their way towards the house. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here all of Thanksgivin’, so we can catch up – you know, all friendly ‘n all that, right?”
As Sin got up from his bed on Friday, he felt strangely… off. He hadn't slept as well as normal lately. Had he perhaps been falling asleep in a bad position? Surely not… he’d woken up on his side as per usual. As the earless cat made his way to the bathroom to clean up, he tried to figure out what it was.
Once he’d washed his face, he stared into the mirror momentarily, before he frowned. Yes, something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Sin wasn't sure what bothered him more; the feeling or the fact that he couldn’t place it.
Making his way back to his bedroom, Sin sat on his bed for a moment, looking at the nearby window. He frowned again. Even once Sin made his way downstairs to his kitchen to eat, he tried his hardest to think about it. He’d been alone for a few days now with no visitors. Had he forgotten something? A meeting with those cursed Marigolds perhaps? No… no, surely not…
He impatiently tapped the kitchen counter as he looked outside. Something was missing…
But what was that something that was missing? Or was it perhaps someone?
