For Luche: “I didn’t mean to wake you up…” (sorry about that!)
LUCHE. …shit.
caked with something unhygienic, eyes struggle to open yet fail. breath grazes throat’s insides // exits in a rough, jostling cough. ( any water would be a fucking blessing right now, && he’s barely half awake. what time is it even? )well, he’s officially returned to consciousness, must have. wouldn’t be this annoyed otherwise. ( it must be light around here, it filters through thin lids. ) yesterday ( was it yesterday? )… yep. just as fucked as the usual expeditions, && this time he’s drawn the short straw. ( could’ve been shorter. ) urgh. furia’d better be alright after all that. ( should be. )
something passingly familiar flutters about the fringes of awareness ( sounds noise person though what was said is lost ). it further aggravates one’s mind. familiar. && shit?
——- oh.
tufts of black hair && scowl’s perpetual furrow // the blinding white of lights overhead; no more than that can register ere eyes squeeze back shut.definitely shit. the hell did he do to deserve this? a little helplessly, luche tries to gesture rather than utter a greeting // finds something tugging at his shoulder, at his wrist // struggles not to fight a simple sling in reflex. shitshitshit, look composed! ( yesterday just got too close for comfort. )
“ can i - help you - sir? ”
words come rough to the point of hard to decipher. perfectly pathetic.
@cortetsu.