Chapter Text
Small reminder! English is not my primary language. If something doesn't make sense or isn't clear, please let me know! I'm always happy to improve every day and ensure you enjoy my writing. Hugs!
"WALKING IS GOOD FOR THE BONES."
I repeated it for the tenth time, just to check how my brother was still dragging his feet, almost skimming the ground, moving with the minimum effort indispensable to not be left behind. And that was barely using a ridiculously small fraction of his surprising talent for walking fast when he wanted to.
Even so…
I was proud.
Very proud.
That he had left his room and voluntarily moved away from that enormous luminous screen was already, objectively, a small domestic miracle.
I had to promise him candy.
His favorites.
Only then I managed to get him off the couch.
His smile widened as soon as he heard the magic word. I could see how his imagination began to work: surely he was already thinking about everything he could see outside. The clean blue sky, the white clouds like cotton candy, the food stalls, people strolling without hurry…
I looked at his face with illusion.
But when turning towards him I noticed something different.
The only thing he observed with true concentration was the ground.
His own steps.
As if he feared to be wrong.
"YOU HAVE TO LOOK AHEAD. IF NOT, YOU COULD COLLIDE WITH SOMEONE. AND THAT MAYBE IS FUNNY… BUT ALSO PAINFUL. AND SEEING YOU HURT IS NOT FUN AT ALL."
I received that calm look of his.
Almost resigned.
That expression that said "I know, but I'm still going to do what I want."
I sighed.
It didn't matter how much I insisted.
He would still be that little brother who made me laugh while fighting against his natural laziness and his adorable clumsiness.
"SO… WHERE DO YOU WANT TO GO?"
"Candy."
I knew it.
For a fraction of a second I wanted to hear something different, something more elaborate, something deep.
But I couldn't help but smile.
In the end…
I was happy.
I was sharing a nice moment with him.
That was enough.
"OKAY, LET'S GO. BUT ONLY ONE, OKAY?"
His smile grew even more.
I could swear he was already mentally planning how to convince me later to get two.
Not this time.
I had brought just the right money.
Psychologically prepared to say no without remorse.
"Park."
"MMH?"
I followed the direction of his gaze.
A small square of green grass appeared a few meters away. It had a sand area, swings, and a colorful and cartoonish castle with bright slides and children's drawings painted on the ground.
"DO YOU WANT TO GO?"
I felt his little hand press mine.
Soft.
Timid.
Nervous, but determined.
I smiled without realizing it and caressed his head.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK IF FIRST WE BUY THE CANDY AND YOU EAT IT WHILE WE GO TO THE SQUARE? WOULD THAT MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER?"
"Yes."
"GREAT! LET'S GO THEN."
I advanced with exaggeratedly long steps, almost theatrical.
He followed me with more energy now, trying to imitate me clumsily, excited.
That park was new.
I remembered having seen it during its construction, when it was still just metal, fresh paint and promises.
After walking for a while we entered Pap's favorite restaurant.
"MISS! I WANT ONE OF YOUR BEST CANDY PACKAGES!"
The spider behind the counter looked up and smiled sideways, showing that typical expression of a saleswoman ready to empty pockets with professional charm.
"Blue, nice to see you" she greeted with a singing voice. "The usual, sweetness?"
"TODAY PAP CHOOSES."
I saw how his eyes sparkled.
That tenderness of his literally illuminated the place.
"HE WALKED TWO MORE BLOCKS THAN LAST TIME! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?"
"Ho ho ho" she applauded straightening up. "Congratulations, little orange."
My brother's cheeks took on a soft orange tone.
I felt my chest swell with pride.
Pap approached the glass of the counter and began to observe the sweets with a concentration almost scientific.
"It seems that he is looking for his great prize~"
"AND WELL DESERVED. DON'T PRESSURE HIM."
I crossed my arms.
She understood my warning as a joke and pretended to be offended.
"To this tender little creature? Never~"
Pap pointed to some bright canes.
"Excellent choice~. Honey bars. Soft inside, caramelized outside. But, no biting hard."
She placed the colorful box on the counter.
"Don't you want to accompany it with a donut and a spider lemonade?"
My brother looked at me.
Those eyes.
That look impossible to ignore.
This time, even so, I was strong.
"NO, LITTLE BROTHER. ONLY THE CANDIES. AND THEN WE GO TO THE SQUARE BEFORE IT GETS LATE."
He accepted his destiny with a small dramatic sigh.
He took the money, paid and carefully saved the change.
It was his first "official saving".
We left the store and resumed the path towards the square.
The castle really looked impressive under the light of day.
Everything around transmitted calm.
Clean air.
Trees moving smoothly.
Children playing.
Distant laughs.
A man running.
A wallet firmly clutched in his hand.
"HELP!" shouted an old human woman as she fell to the ground after being pushed.
Time tensed.
Rage ran through my body.
Without thinking, I ran towards the woman fast, carrying my brother in arms and helped her up.
Her hands were shaking.
I saw fear in her eyes…
Then surprise…
Then a little relief.
"ARE YOU OKAY? DOES SOMETHING HURT?"
"N-no, young man… I'm fine… thank you…"
I breathed relieved.
"COULD YOU TAKE CARE OF MY BROTHER FOR A MOMENT?"
I looked back.
Pap was watching me horrified.
The old woman hesitated for a second…
Then she nodded quickly.
"Yes! Please! My granddaughter needs that money!"
I crouched in front of him and took his shoulders firmly.
"PAPS. STAY HERE. DON'T MOVE. I'LL BE BACK AS FAST AS POSSIBLE."
Before he could say anything to stop me…
I was already running after the thief.
The rain was falling heavily as you held the umbrella high, tilted just forward to keep the water from hitting your face. Although, to be honest, it was a bit of an exaggeration: the big fur jacket kept you dry and warm... except for the completely soaked sneakers and the bottom of your pants, which were beyond saving.
You walked carefully, dodging puddles, even though your intrusive thoughts weren't helping at all.
That dangerous idea of jumping in one had definitely been one of the worst decisions of the week.
It looked small.
Harmless.
Classic mistake.
It turned out to be much deeper than you imagined.
You could wash the clothes, of course. Throw everything in the washing machine, sigh dramatically, and pretend nothing had happened.
You shook your head, banishing the idea.
You had to maintain some order in your life. Would jumping in another puddle like a five-year-old make you happy? Yes. Could you resist as a responsible adult? Also. But being brutally honest with yourself... you knew you deserved at least one more.
You kept walking, listening to the constant sound of the rain hitting the pavement. A smooth, almost hypnotic rhythm.
Just a few hours ago, the sun was burning mercilessly. The heat was unbearable. It seemed like the sky had gotten tired of seeing the town suffer and decided to punish us by drowning us in water.
You mentally thanked those gray clouds.
Anything was better than those infernal 27 degrees.
You moved forward, looking at the ground and the surroundings, searching for the perfect puddle.
Not just any one.
You wanted a legendary one.
One that shouted, "I've come this far, now it's time to go home and change."
One that would explode in droplets as you fell.
For a second, you even wished you could find one deep enough to swim in...
You immediately regretted it.
You were being too demanding.
Most were near drains or mixed with dark dirt. You wanted something worthy. Something clean. Something humble, but honorable.
That absurd search led you near a playground.
For a second, you thought about sliding down the slide just to kill time.
You laughed alone.
Then you remembered the rain.
And then you saw it.
Something was moving among the playground equipment, barely perceptible. It was a few blocks from your house, luckily.
At first, you didn't know what it was.
A bag?
A colorful dog?
You hesitated.
Dogs aren't usually orange...
Cats are, though.
You got closer.
And the laughter died in your throat.
It was a child.
He was hidden inside the hollow of the play castle, huddled against a plastic wall, shivering. You didn't know his age, but he looked small. Too small to be alone in that rain.
You approached carefully until you were standing in front of him.
"Kid, you shouldn't be out here in this weather."
The irony hit you late.
You were there by pure whim, too.
"Why are you alone?"
Silence.
"Are you waiting for someone?"
Nothing.
"Do you want me to call someone or...?"
The child hugged himself tighter, shrinking his body. The shivering increased.
"Look... I have to get you out of here—"
You stopped.
He retreated even further inside his improvised shelter.
Now he was trembling from head to toe.
It didn't seem like nerves anymore.
It seemed like pure fear.
Your stomach tightened.
What are you supposed to do in these cases?
You observed him more closely. He was wet, cold, scared. His orange coat was dark with water, heavy with dampness.
The logical thing to do would be to take him to a warm place.
But that word came with other, less pleasant ones: kidnapping, police, misunderstandings, trauma.
You didn't know if someone was coming for him.
You didn't know if he had a home.
All you knew was that it was raining hard... and that it was cruelly cold for someone so small.
You thought about picking him up and running to get help.
But you imagined the look of terror on his face.
And you understood something uncomfortable.
You were scared too.
You clenched your fists, frustrated.
The rain was no longer pretty.
Now it was just a cold noise falling on a child hidden in a plastic castle.
You sighed.
You knew that delegating this to someone else wouldn't let you sleep peacefully.
You crouched down in front of him.
"Hey..."
The little boy shuddered again without raising his head.
"Do you mind if I join this giant fort? I think I'm slowly turning into a popsicle out here."
You waited.
The silence didn't change.
Neither did the rain.
But slowly...
Very slowly...
The child looked up.
Your thoughts stopped.
He wasn't wearing a helmet.
Or a mask.
He was a monster.
You felt a pang rise in your chest.
Did they leave monster children alone in the rain?
You repressed your anger.
It didn't matter.
Now, the important thing was him.
The little boy was still trembling. That sound... now you understood it. You could hear the soft rattling of his bones knocking together.
When you mentioned going somewhere else, the sound increased. He looked at you cautiously, assessing you.
Finally...
He nodded.
Your face softened without you realizing it.
"Thanks, kid... you saved me."
He moved aside to let you into the improvised cave. You closed the umbrella and made yourself as comfortable as possible, avoiding touching him. You sat against the wall and let out an exaggerated sigh.
"It's cramped... but it's a safe haven."
You spoke slowly, wanting to fill the silence.
"This castle is new, isn't it? When I was little, I had one like it near my house... well, similar in shape, but this one is much prettier. We used to play castles and dragons. I always wanted a branch as a sword to fight a huge, colorful dragon."
You glanced at him sideways.
He was listening to you.
Carefully, you slipped your jacket over his shoulders.
He stiffened at first.
Then he relaxed when he realized it was just a coat.
He didn't speak.
He didn't thank you.
But he stopped trembling so hard.
And that was enough.
"Once the dragon was so big that I ran away."
You heard a soft laugh.
"Really! I thought he was going to throw a fireball at me... but he was just looking at the sun."
His laugh sounded a little louder.
"Hey, by the way... never look at the sun. It hurts. Well... your sockets... pupils... can you see anything, right?"
"You're silly."
You smiled.
Two words.
A miracle.
"Yeah, a little. But being silly has given me good stories."
You looked at him more closely.
"So what's a knight doing hiding in this castle?"
Silence again.
He kept looking outside.
"Ah... the rain. You don't like it?"
He shook his head slowly.
Very slowly.
"Did you know that the rain sings?"
He looked at you like you were completely crazy.
"The drops make sounds. If they fell on a drum, it would be music. It's the same, only without an instrument."
He didn't respond.
But he was listening.
"Do you know what a drum is?"
He shook his head.
"Then you have homework for later."
You checked your pockets and took out your cell phone.
You tried to turn it on.
Black screen.
Dead battery.
"Damn..."
"Oh... I see. Well, it'll be later."
You heard a sob.
The child started to cry silently.
Your chest tightened suddenly.
"Hey... hey... it's okay. You're waiting for someone, right? I'm staying with you. I won't leave you alone. If I could take on an imaginary dragon... I think I can protect us from the rain."
You adjusted the fur hood over his head.
"Hey..."
You waited for his attention.
"What's green and fast?"
…
"A lettuce on a motorcycle."
His expression was a strange mix of confusion and surprise.
He didn't laugh.
But it didn't matter.
You had more jokes.
More stories.
More time.
And even if you didn't say it out loud…
You were just as lost as he was.
I went to leave the wallet and the handcuffed thief near a police station, about seven blocks further on.
Talking to the officer took more than an hour. It was frustrating. The thief had the nerve to accuse me of having attacked him, when he had pushed a defenseless old woman to the ground. Without evidence, the only thing I could do was give my testimony. After a while it was clear that I had not used physical violence. I could have left thirty minutes earlier… but they held us another thirty more because it didn't occur to him anything better than to insist with his absurd version.
He shouted, insulted, accused everyone. Two policemen had to hold him when he began to lose control. Every time he asked to leave, it seemed that the officer responded with more waiting time. In the end he shut up. He already understood where all this was going.
Besides, it was a human police station. The monster one was not yet finished. There were pending procedures, new protocols, paperwork that the queen and the royal guards were still adjusting.
I stayed watching the clock, pretending calm, hiding the anxiety that burned inside me.
And finally… they let me out.
But…
It was raining.
…
The old woman was not there. And worse, my brother was not there
…
The rain hit relentlessly as I ran.
My clothes were no longer damp: they were soaked. Sticking to the body. Heavy. Cold.
I'm an idiot.
I never thought something like this could happen to me.
But look at me now.
I'm a complete idiot.
My legs had been running for more than two hours between mud and puddles. The state of my clothes was indescribable. Shameful. Unrecognizable.
It hurt to run.
My bones hurt.
It hurt to exist.
I had exploded every fiber of magic that was still left in my body just to move faster.
To find him.
I don't know where he is.
I don't know where he could be.
I lost sight of him for a second.
A damn second.
I don't deserve his forgiveness.
I have to find him.
I have to find him.
My soul hits against my ribs with such force that I can barely hear anything beyond the roar of the water falling on the city.
A little boy.
Harmless.
Clumsy.
Maybe he's sitting somewhere waiting for me to come back.
But I'm not making it.
I should have called acquaintances.
To everyone.
To anyone.
Until my phone battery died.
I stumble.
Something invisible hooks my foot and I fall fully against the ground.
I feel the fabric tear.
More mud.
More cold.
More misery.
I have to get up.
I have to do it.
I can't give up now.
The rain falls even harder.
My brother.
My little brother.
I get up with a clumsy push and keep running, turning another block, then another more. My thoughts are no longer thoughts: they are pleas.
I beg Toriel.
I beg any god that exists.
To anything that is listening.
To protect him.
That he is not alone.
That he is not cold.
My sight blurs.
I don't know if it's the rain or if it's tears.
I rub my sockets with desperation just to keep seeing enough to not crash against another pole.
The drops enter anyway.
They burn.
But I can't stop.
It hurts.
It hurts too much.
I'm the worst brother in the world.
How could I concentrate on a stupid thief and not on my own brother?
What kind of priorities are those?
Why did I help a stranger and leave the one I love the most behind?
Look where so much goodness brought you.
I clench my teeth until my jaws tremble.
The sobs escape me in broken sounds.
I want to scream.
My soul wants to scream.
But then…
Among all the noise of the rain…
Among the chaos…
I hear a voice.
Soft.
Small.
Beautiful.
I lift my head.
And I see him.
I run like never before.
Papy stops pretending that he is not tired and runs too, straight towards me.
I catch him in my arms.
I squeeze him.
I hold him as if he were going to disappear.
I feel his body tremble against mine.
And at the same time I feel safety.
And guilt.
And relief.
All together.
Seeing him soaked breaks my soul.
“You came back…”
His voice is broken.
He was crying for me.
For my stupidity.
Never.
I will never take him out of my sight again.
I lift my gaze over his shoulder.
And then I see him.
I don't recognize him.
He is not a monster.
He is a human.
My body tenses automatically.
I try that my face doesn't show distrust.
I don't want to make him feel judged.
But I don't know who he is.
I don't know what he was doing with my brother.
Is he a threat?
Should I call the Ebott police station?
My protective instinct awakens.
And I don't plan to back down so easily.
You raise a hand and wave, almost like a nervous reflex, almost like a silent plea. Perhaps praying to everything that exists—to gods, stars, luck, karma, or whatever is listening at this hour—not to seem like a threat. Because you're soaked. From head to toe. Shirt plastered to your skin, hair dripping, shoes heavy with water. The umbrella lowers slowly, dripping as if it were tired too.
Your surprise grows as you strain your eyes. You're half-blind, not because you can't see, but because the night is thick, black, barely interrupted by yellow lights that tremble reflected in the puddles. Tall buildings block the glow of the lampposts. The rain turns everything into blurry smudges.
Then you see him.
Or you think you see him.
A white silhouette.
You blink.
You keep looking.
And when you notice that his eyes—his sockets—open and close, looking at you with absolute attention… you accept your fate.
Fine.
It wasn't a skeleton.
There were TWO.
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter how they stand without flesh.
It doesn't matter how one can cry.
It doesn't matter how the little one trembles or how the older one seems to breathe without lungs.
Damn, you have so many questions that your brain decides to shut them all off at once.
You get up from where you were half-frozen. You pick up your coat from the ground, which luckily fell on a less muddy area. It's damp, with a few marked drops, but nothing a few shakes won't fix. You put it over your arm and open the umbrella, approaching slowly, with soft steps, as if any sudden movement could break the moment.
Now that you observe them better, you notice the detail that tightens your chest.
He's almost as undressed as you are.
A short, soaked shirt, wet shorts sticking to his legs. At least you're wearing long pants. It was hot in the morning. He must have left confidently, seeing the clouds approaching without imagining this downpour. And he also went out looking for the child.
He's soaked.
He doesn't have an umbrella.
He's trembling.
You quicken your pace without thinking.
Before he says a single word, you move the umbrella and place it over him. Immediately you feel the cold blow of the rain falling on your head, shoulders, back. The water runs down your neck. You no longer feel like stepping in puddles now that you're officially part of the weather.
"Here..."
You quickly offer your jacket and settle it around the child. The older one adjusts it carefully, wrapping him little by little. The little one stops trembling just a little.
"He's frozen... this will bring him back to normal temperature..."
You don't take the umbrella off the blue man. Because now that you look at him closely, yes, he's definitely a blue man. Blue handkerchief. Blue gloves. Blue boots. He's missing something more blue and the collection is complete.
Then the shout startles you.
Or rather a voice that's too loud.
"I APPRECIATE IT!"
He lowers his head. His cheeks are light blue. You don't know if it's cold, shame, or both.
"BUT USE THE UMBRELLA YOURSELF! I HAVE TO GO!"
He turns quickly, hiding the child inside the coat, holding him with an affection that tightens your stomach. You see him walking away in the rain and something inside you activates like an alarm.
You run.
It's not elegant. It's not dignified. It's a weird, clumsy, desperate trot.
"It's no problem! Really, are you his father? What was the child doing here exactly?"
"I'M HIS BROTHER!"
"Oh..."
Excellent. Bad choice of words. You barely have time to process it.
"Your brother... I see... so... where was he? What was the child doing here?"
"IT'S HIS FAVORITE PARK!" he replies without turning around "AND I LOST SIGHT OF HIM! I HAVE TO TAKE HIM HOME!"
"I'll go with you!"
"I DON'T KNOW YOU!"
He quickens his pace.
"I know! but... you're getting wet, sir! ma'am?... thing? "you correct yourself while raising the umbrella better" You have to be okay so that he's okay!"
That seems to sink in.
He reduces the speed to a normal trot. You mentally note that you need to train cardio because your lungs are protesting.
"YOU DON'T HAVE TO... BUT I APPRECIATE IT..."
He squeezes the child against his chest.
"I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE HE WAS... WE WERE FAR FROM HERE... I'M GLAD HE FOUND A SAFE PLACE... AND I THINK... SOMEONE TO KEEP HIM SAFE..."
That "I think" hurts.
But you accept it.
"Does the child need a hospital?"
"NO. THANK TORIEL THAT HE DOESN'T. BUT I HAVE TO CHANGE HIM AND CHECK HIM."
"Do you need help?"
"NO, THANK YOU."
You take a deep breath.
Lord, please, let me be useful.
"Are you cold? You can take the umbrella!"
"NO, THANK YOU."
"Do you want me to call a taxi?"
"I LIVE NEARBY."
"Me too... it's..."
You look around.
"Do you want me to buy you something hot to drink?"
"HUMAN."
You don't know if that was racist, formal, or just weird. But you shut up. It makes sense. He's carrying a lost child in the rain.
"YOUR DISPOSITION IS SOMETHING I APPRECIATE VERY MUCH. I DON'T FIND PEOPLE SO KIND. BUT I ONLY WANT TO SEE MY BROTHER WELL."
You keep silent.
You keep walking.
You keep breathing cold.
Until they enter the building.
The interior heat feels like another planet.
You take a deep breath, taking a hand to your chest. Your lungs burn from the cold air that you still carry inside, as if the rain had settled in your body. When exhaling, a white cloud forms in front of your face and slowly dissolves in the warm air of the interior.
"HUMAN."
You lift your gaze.
The boy is still soaked, cold drops sliding down his head, but his breathing is calmer. His eyes are closed. He's not moving. He's probably asleep. Or so tired that his body decided to shut down without asking permission.
The brother settles him a little more in his arms, adjusting the jacket that you gave him, protecting him almost instinctively.
"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO STAY WITH HIM... NOR GIVE ME YOUR COAT... NOR PROTECT ME WITH THE UMBRELLA..."
He makes a small pause. He doesn't look at you directly. He tightens his fingers around the child carefully.
"FROM ME... AND FROM MY BROTHER... THANK YOU."
You don't know what to answer.
You just nod a little, uncomfortable, with that weird feeling in your chest that appears when someone truly thanks you.
Now they are completely inside the building.
The lights are warm. The floor shines wet from the footprints they left. It smells like cheap detergent and old heating.
Apartment.
Comfortable.
Dry.
Warm.
And then you understand.
They live here.
Neighbors.
Great. Of all possible coincidences.
"I'LL RETURN THE JACKET SOON. HERE."
He puts his hand... in no specific place. No pocket, no jacket. A cell phone simply appears in his hand.
You blink.
You decide not to ask questions.
"THIS IS MY NUMBER. TEXT ME AND I'LL RETURN IT TO YOU AS SOON AS POSSIBLE."
"Yes... thank you."
You say it quietly, kind of awkwardly.
"A THOUSAND TIMES ARE NOT ENOUGH TO SAY HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE IT."
You feel your ears getting hot. Literally.
"Seriously... it was nothing. Anyone would do the same."
He looks at you.
His sockets lower just a little.
"MUCH FEWER THAN YOU THINK."
For a second his voice loses strength. Then he shakes his head, as if he didn't want to stay there.
"IF YOU EXCUSE ME... I MUST GO."
"Oh, sure."
You step forward and press the elevator button.
The silence becomes weird.
Uncomfortable.
You look for something to say.
"The cleaning man is going to hate us a little... don't you think?"
You say it trying to sound light.
He looks at you.
And for the first time, you release the air when you hear that strange sound:
"MUE HE HE HE"
You don't know if it's a laugh. But it's definitely the closest thing to it.
"YES... BUT I'LL BRING A GIFT OF APOLOGY."
The elevator makes its metallic sound.
The doors open.
"IT WAS A PLEASURE. GET HOME SAFE."
"Likewise."
He enters first.
You follow him.
And then it happens.
You look at the panel.
Same floor.
Your stomach drops straight to the basement.
You swallow saliva.
You think fast.
Two hallways. Left or right. You just have to get out first. Walk with decision. Pretend normality. Survive.
The doors open.
You exit.
You take three steps.
Four.
And you hear steps behind you.
Of course.
God doesn't exist.
This goes straight to the top three most awkward moments of your life.
"HUMAN."
You stop.
The air feels thick. You turn around slowly.
His eyes are no longer smiling. They are tense. Alert. Not aggressive… but careful.
"I DON'T THINK VISITING MY HOUSE TODAY IS A GOOD IDEA."
You want to disappear.
"Yes... I think the same."
Silence.
Then his expression changes suddenly.
"REALLY? GREAT!"
He sticks almost against the wall and walks quickly towards a door.
And there you see it.
The funny thing.
The cruel thing.
The perfect thing to ruin your dignity.
The door he opens. It's right in front of yours.
"THEN I INVITE YOU TO REST IN YOUR BEAUTIFUL ABODE."
You don't respond.
You take out the keys. Your hands tremble a little. It's hard to get the key in the lock.
Click.
You open.
"YOU LIVE HERE?"
"Yes..."
His face goes through the whole mental process in real time.
Understanding.
Error.
Shame.
Intense light blue color.
"OH FOR— I'M SORRY! I THOUGHT"
"No, no... it's okay... I understand. It was a weird day, we don't know each other and"
"EXACTLY!" he says too loud "THAT'S RIGHT!"
He looks at the wall next to you as if it were the most interesting thing in the universe.
Awkward silence.
"… Then… good night."
"LIKEWISE."
He enters so fast that you swear physics gave up.
You close your door.
You lean your back against it.
You let yourself fall slowly until you are sitting on the floor.
You run your hands through your wet hair.
You don't want to see yourself in the mirror.
You don't want to process anything.
You're a soaked human disaster.
You sneeze so hard that you feel like your lung is trying to escape.
Great
Okay! We've finished the chapter for today!
I hope you all liked it; it's one of my best works in progress so far. In case you didn't know, I'm a digital artist, and I'm more than happy to announce that you're going to see some spoilers and comic content from certain scenes of this book on my Tumblr and Patreon profiles.
The first part of this scene is here: [Link to first part]
The second part of this scene is here: [Link to second part]
Without further ado, I bid you farewell! Kisses!