Work Text:
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, ‘Lenore!’
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, ‘Lenore!’
Merely this, and nothing more.”
It was a windy afternoon, the windows swayed with the strength of the gusts. Poe’s room was in almost total darkness, only the light in his table illuminated the room. He was with his head on his hands, trying not to cry. It all started when he tried to write a new chapter, he had a deadline coming, but he couldn't think of anything, his muse long gone.
Edgar sighed, trying to contain his tears. He looked at the sofa near the desk where Karl slept peacefully, in a little nest made of blankets Ranpo did for him long ago.
He knew the little raccoon missed him too.
Poe looked at his hands, those were dirty with black ink. In the middle of his crisis, he didn't perceive that his glass pot of ink had fallen in his manuscripts, staining the papers and a part of his clothes.
Oh, God. Why?
Lately, he asked himself why again and again, almost in a frenetic state, a desperation for answers.
Will this suffering ever end?
He stayed sitting, looking at his ruined chapter, and only a word peered from beneath all the ink:
“Nevermore.”
The string broke.
Poe started crying. Tears and tears poured down, falling in the papers, mixing with the poured ink.
Be damned those manuscripts.
Karl woke up with all the noise, realizing the situation and running to his owner, sitting in his lap and rubbing his head on Poe’s hands, trying to help.
The man leaned back on the chair, taking deep breaths. He smiled through his tears, caressing Karl’s head, trying to appease the little animal’s despair.
He missed Ranpo so much.
Edgar took his little notebook, trying to distract himself and focus on the deadline and the novel.
Poe sighed again. It was hard when his muse was long gone.
‘“Respite – respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!’
Quoth the Raven ‘Nevermore’”