No need to apologize. It was handled accordingly, and as civilized as it could be. Thank you, though, for the support.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
Tightened bond becomes apparent.
“You’re making it harder than it needs to be.”
Endearment is met with mutuality based on
the plain of mannerism ( and camaraderie).
Gratitude lingers in eyes, but only minimally
as to cap exaggeration.
‹▋◤Ｔｉｔａｎｉｕｍ◢▋› head dips subtly in silent agreement as precarious footsteps tap noiselessly upon contact beneath corpus.
”I'll cover rear.”
In which she herself would take point, a lead that
required an armament to seize hold of brandished
reality. A crimson elongation of steel now is exposed
forthright, instead of its slumber along her spine.
Haunting was this breeze that blew through onyx mane, sending
shivers down a hardened spine. The soldier remembered its call, how
could he not? He only thought of that very sound for as long as it had
disappeared from his life. And perhaps nostalgia brought upon him that
feeling of elation, or maybe it had been dread. Zack couldn’t sift through
the emotions quick enough for him to figure it out entirely.
Boots trudging across dust and ruin, for even though he knew not
the destination that call would be, but he could always sense her a mile
away. He prided himself in that. And perhaps their reunion would be all
too soon. Pastel pink with all its grace and hardened beauty appeared
within those energy infused orbs and he fought down the urge to crack a
smile. Zack knew what was in store, he could hear her tone now, but
holding her in his gaze again would be worth the lecture.
He missed her.
Where joy should be present, there is a bitterness
akin to the coldest peaks or the darkest depths of
any oceanic crevice. It’s an irritability based through
the misplacement and lack of presence, absence
drawn forth in lieu of what is and what isn’t. In a
way, memories draw forth a desire to hold presence
along his side. Perhaps this is the humanity that has
returned to her after the tale of a savior has come to
its close, only for a new chapter to begin its written exposition.
But this feeling does not come without the distasteful
hitch in one’s breath upon audible consumption to that
of shuffling footwork. The harshness is revived in a
gaze so cold that directs itself edgeward, to a flank so
that peripheral pierce takes up a SOLDIER’s approach.
No words are spoken, for that gaze shows disappointment
enough. Stillyet, it is something that she is aware that
he is fully aware of as well. It goes without saying that
distance and time has worn on what once was
something beyond beauty.
She lets out a small breath.
C o n f l i c t e d .
“Well, kind of a general question, I’m just confused.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
“Why is it getting a movie adaptation?
I thought it was a horrible book.”
“You’re asking me?”
This births a subtle positive alignment through
tiers of supple proportionality. A nod accompanies
Gratitude by camaraderie’s hold.