Work Text:
Had it been worse to be lonely alone or lonely with Jakob?
Siriol sat on the chair, facing the man in the other corner of the room.
They held the broken bottle loosely in one hand as they put out their cigarette on the chair with the other. Another black burn mark was left behind on the wood.
Had it been worse to be the only one who knew about what they were destined to do, forced to never tell anyone, or having someone who knew, helped and claimed to understand, no matter how annoying they were?
Siriol placed the bottle down and wiped their hand on their trousers. The blood was starting to get sticky.
They reached to the table and tossed the cigarette in the ashtray, before pulling another out of the open package, placing it in their mouth unlit.
They weren’t sure what was worse, because they did not feel happier than before, but they definitely didn’t feel sadder.
It didn’t really make a difference, did it?
They should hide the body.
Siriol grabbed a shirt off the table, stood up and stepped over the shards of glass on the floor.
They stopped before the puddle of blood around Jakob’s head. They didn’t want to ruin their shoes, after all.
Siriol crouched down and started to wipe the blood with the shirt they’d taken.
They paused.
Jakob was breathing. So he was alive.
Oh well.
Siriol lit the cigarette in their mouth.
At least they didn’t have to clean the blood themselves now.