snow certainly knew how to disappear when he wanted to… veshna had been searching the palace for him for at the very least an hour. while she had no doubt in her mind he was fine physically, she worried for his mental state. he’d spent longer and longer periods of time lost in thought as of late, and the entire palace would chill when these periods came about. it had very quickly become the norm.
she just had no idea which office he’d traipsed off to this time. she’d knock on the doors before entering, hoping she’d hear an answer or he’d simply be sitting there lost in thought with a book in hand. what she didn’t expect, however, was to hear the faint sound of wind as she neared one of the last offices. oh, dear… his mood must be truly dark and far away this time. she approaches the door slowly, carefully, and when snow finally turns, her smile is gentle.
her head cranes back to meet his gaze, smile still in place, and a slight shrug, barely a lift of the shoulders, is followed by, ❛ it’s quite alright. no need to apologize, snow. ❜
Snow leaned forward in his chair, the leather creaking ever so slightly from the shift in weight as he watched Veshna continue into the large office. He sighed as he propped his elbows on the wood surface and rubbed his face roughly with his hands. He didn’t mean to get so wrapped up in himself, and he didn’t realize how bad it must have gotten until he saw the glitter of frost lingering on some of the books on his desk.
He swallowed roughly before standing. He needed to walk away before sinking back into that mindset once more. These large, quiet places left him alone with his thoughts far too easily. For that, he was thankful for Veshna’s presence that always seemed to break him out of it before it became too violent.
He made his way to her side, an arm lifting to gently wrap around her small shoulders before nudging her towards the door so they could leave together. There was no need for her to see that he was up to his ears in research about what he could do, though it was always fruitless.
“No, no. I fear I do this far too often to not be sorry. Please, let me make it up to you, darling.”
