indeed, one of those nights. dark doesn’t often spend time in the rest of the house, preferring instead to maneuver about his own quiet room. the rest of the home is too bright, to colorful, too loud. with everyone living here, it is a mess in dark’s eyes. he hates it.
his room is a soft blueish-grey. the bed and rugs match with slightly differed shades of the same sort of color, and the walls are devoid of any and all decoration, minus a few hanging lights. everything in his room is for efficiency. if he wanted entertainment, he would walk into one of the others’ for a moment, or even a foot in the living area.
tonight, he can’t sleep. his mind races for some reason that he’s sure he can attribute to the fact that it is coming closer to the december season. his mind is far from the gift-giving that he reluctantly partakes, but instead all the inevitably cheer bound to exist in the surrounding areas. he dreads the moment the house is decorated.
he dreads the memories that aren’t his that will arrive.
the voice catches him unawares, and his hand jerks to side. he spills the boiling water from the kettle onto his hand and clenches his jaw as he drops the silver kitchenware with a clatter onto the stove. luckily, it doesn’t fall over. he takes a deep breath and sets about turning on the cold water to soothe the skin.
his voice is irrate and harsh.
“ i was making myself tea, until you made me spill the water on myself. what are YOU doing? “
he can’t help but feel GUILT at dark’s sharp tone, but at the same time, he’s used to dark being in a less-than-happy mood. he knows how dark is, and he knows that the two of them are wildly different people.
something draws wilford to dark, though, and he can’t quite explain why. sometimes he’ll have dreams -- of a man who looks like dark but isn’t. he supposes that might be the reason, but he’s sure there’s something deeper, something dark knows and he doesn’t.
his response is short, but not harsh. it’s just that he can feel his throat closing up and his eyes starting to WATER and he doesn’t know why. wilford has always been emotional, sometimes flipping like a switch. it was OFTEN that he didn’t know why he was so upset. he just was.
‘ ...ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ. ’
annaxmalina
prguitarman
gummygunk
theartofmadeline
areudirty
izzy806
