··· the first thing he noticed was the wall. ·strokes of charcoal united with smatterings of paint, ·coalescing into a concentration of unrecognizable shapes and meanings. ·it looked brutish, ·haphazard, ·under a dazed eye untrained to the fine arts. ·ill-equipped to appreciate that which told tales, ·of a man’s asylum found only through the brush.
··· there was a glass of water on the nightstand beside him.· he gulped it down,· with little hesitation.· he laid on his stomach, ·limbs of lead pressed into the mattress,· cheek curled against a pillow that smelled of something familiar.· nice familiar,· his addled brain decided.
·· not even a few minutes after,· he fell unconscious (again).· he dreamt of a faceless man surrounded by black clouds,· a ray of light extending out,· banishing the fate of a lonely existence.· the man smiled.
··· when next he woke, ·it was to a voice. ·low, ·soft, ·with all the rigidness of stone. ·he cracked an eyelid open.··· “ … ”·· his throat felt especially dry. ·didn’t he drink water earlier?· his eye shut.··· “ …· where’d you come from? ”
gaze lingers·‘pon another ,· gentle hum being the only elicited reaction for now.· he does not move ,· does not dare disturb the other’s· ... comfort. boundaries have been crossed , those of which had been set subsequent to the keys of the soldier’s abode came into his possession , so humbly offered by shinra elites to ( at the very least ) praise and thank the war - torn solder for his efforts. though ... even decorated to his heart’s content ,· it feels not alike a home. he’d always feel like a visitor ------ an intruder. the thoughts flee when he looks over another , resting comfortably in his own bed.
❝ the director called me in for a mission briefing. ❞ honesty , for there lacked any reason to hide truths now after the other has seen the inside of his small apartment , his personal space. ❝ you have been asleep for a while now ... ❞ a pause , tilt of his head following suit : ❝ how do you feel? ❞