🐉 🔥 OPEN STARTER, TO ALL MUTUALS.
how quickly grief undoes itself in spirals, unravelling it's multiple layers like a spindle of silk. jacaerys finds that at the center of his, rage has decidedly found itself a home within him; tucked right beneath the breast bone, and 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱 to burn him from within 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙰 𝙳𝚁𝙰𝙶𝙾𝙽. for what is housed beneath is not a seahorse. no, that was his brother— always so much kinder than jacaerys.
standing with tears shed, dried on his cheeks with salty trails carving down his face, he attempts not to feed it : 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙻𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄, the emotion unbefitting a prince. but as he stands there, long after the candles had 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝘂𝘁 and the sun had begun to peek up above the horizon's edge, he finds that feeing it is the only way to feel something other than the omnipresent loneliness luke's death has imparted upon him.
it was as if the world kept on without lucerys, his first brother. as if not even 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝚁𝙲𝙸𝙵𝚄𝙻 𝚂𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳, everything could stop in remembrance of him. no, the sun continued to rise— 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘁, the painting of the sky in orange and pink. if he squinted his eyes? it was red.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ everything was red, the longer he stood there without sleep.
