[ Mika’s room doesn’t evoke loneliness - but something adjacent. A quiet waiting; the shadowed corners and dim light stop the tick of time, the hands halted right before they can meet to usher in the next day. The couch curves just enough in a half-embrace, half-offer. Sit here, lie here until the sleep you desire finally arrives.
Something… like that?
Ah - but maybe that's Ginger being influenced by too much fiction, by melodramatic feelings. An unhealthy projection of the angry solitude he felt, struggling with being half-blood, struggling with his possessive nature. Waiting to adapt like everyone else had easily done. ]
… We’re all worth crying over to someone. It’s too late anyway. I can’t take those tears back.
[ Dumb as a rock and stupid emotional. He sits - here, as he’s told to. Already grabbing for one of the pillows - because tears and pillows, they go together. ]
no subject
Something… like that?
Ah - but maybe that's Ginger being influenced by too much fiction, by melodramatic feelings. An unhealthy projection of the angry solitude he felt, struggling with being half-blood, struggling with his possessive nature. Waiting to adapt like everyone else had easily done. ]
… We’re all worth crying over to someone. It’s too late anyway. I can’t take those tears back.
[ Dumb as a rock and stupid emotional. He sits - here, as he’s told to. Already grabbing for one of the pillows - because tears and pillows, they go together. ]