𖥻 │▌ 𝙰 𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝚈, 𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙰 : 🚬
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘'𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐍; all the evidence of eager participation was still streaked and spattered on your skin ──── staining your clothes with shades of red. a spectrum of blue and violet blossoming from the root: a fresh cut torn through your eyebrow. one moment you had been inside the eye of the storm, then you were the storm, and after that? it was all over. ( alive to fight another day, as they say. ) you think no one else took that quite so literally as you. not that you had a choice.
you breathed shallow against the ache of bruised cartilage between your ribs; grey eyes steeled and half-lidded. both aware and completely unfazed by a burst capillary that painted you in the portrait of something wretched and untamed to wandering eyes. ( finding yourself longing for a moment's respite, ) all the while knowing rest was well outside of your reach for the time being.
avoiding looking down at your hands was critical to keep them from trembling [ ... ] the memories it would unlock were far too daunting, and you weren't safe enough to be compromised. not by a longshot.
once outside, the smoker's ritual begins immediately. you flick your bic and hold the flame to one end of a cigarette until it smolders. first pull makes your lungs ache. with a fleeting glance toward @assetgray, sweeping from her head to her feet, you cock an eyebrow and extend the fag toward her. a gesture of good faith which alternatively makes for a pitiful attempt at masking the skepticism buried beneath it.
so, to reinforce the point, vi forces a listless smirk into one corner of her mouth. gesturing her sin impatiently as she exhaled a cloud of smoke, ❛ ────here's to living to fight another day, huh? ❜
