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Summary
Plucking it without a care in the world. His fingers are deft and swift. No wonder he could carve lines in her psyche without seeming to exert much effort. He turns, slow, and if it made a sound Van is sure it would be akin to nails on a chalkboard or the incessant creaking of an unoiled door.
Their eyes meet, and unlike in any visage of the past he is looking at her. Directly at her. Not through her, not in her general area, but at her. His eyes widen though not in shock nor terror, but with glee.
Series
- Part 7 of Eternal Ocean
- Part 16 of Van Chapman Whumptober '25
