Work Text:
The city isn't a home. It is merely a place where one stores their stuff. They call it a home, but they’re liars.
The Grim failed to be a home. It was away from the liars, but also away from you.
You previously had a home, and wanted to return.
I hadn’t had one, instead wanting to create one.
But it failed. You wanted them. Your home was with those you cared about.
Is that how people feel about their friends?
It had hurt to see you leave. Does that mean I saw you as a friend? As a home?