[ There's a flash of hurt in the way Drake looks away, and Ephemera just closes his good eye. Counts to five and tries imagining he's somewhere else. It doesn't work. He fucked up and this is the aftermath, all the awful shit he brought down on the these people. And he likes Drake, who is solid and kind, and no one deserves to be tangled up in this anymore. So it doesn't matter that Ephemera wants to reach out and take his hand, to touch someone and take comfort from the proximity.
It doesn't matter. He can't do that anymore.
Ephemera opens his good eye. Nods just once, and retreats to his room. He barely ever sleeps in the bed, but sleeping on the floor seems like it would be inviting more questions so he just grabs a pillow and curls around it, and tries to focus on his breathing. ]
no subject
It doesn't matter. He can't do that anymore.
Ephemera opens his good eye. Nods just once, and retreats to his room. He barely ever sleeps in the bed, but sleeping on the floor seems like it would be inviting more questions so he just grabs a pillow and curls around it, and tries to focus on his breathing. ]