' we’ll see you in the morning. ' #coin @ wormy bye
everything i never told you
the angel is in the living room, their shoes already on as they begin to pull on a jacket. despite it being so close to midnight, they aren’t going out to do anything fun or even anything that they really want to do– but they’re still going.
they’re looking at their phone as they stand by the door, only looking up when they hear coin come down the stairs. they figure she was headed towards the kitchen but stopped when she noticed them all dressed and ready to leave. they share a silent moment of regarding one another as wormy tries to think of an easier explanation for where they’re going.
in reality, they were going to check on rylan after several odd texts followed by days of missed calls, but both of the celestials had too much pride to admit anything to anyone else (rylan certainly wouldn’t be happy if anyone else knew that he even needed checking on).
the weight of the situation and pressure to come up with a lie so quickly falls down on wormy with the few words that coin finally says to break the silence. it feels like a slap to the face no matter how they interpret it, even as they try to separate themself from it. then they try to convince themself that she really doesn’t mean anything by it.
or maybe it was for the best that she wasn’t prying– wasn’t it? wasn’t it better for her not to care where they were going or when they’d be back? wasn’t it better for her not to ask about the odd way they’d been watching their phone the past few days, their surprisingly consistent sober yet anxious state lately? wasn’t it better this way? wasn’t it better for people not to want to know about you?
each attempt at a reassuring thought is a weighted jab to an aching pain. how could a few words have such an impact on them while they tried to prove to themself that she didn’t mean anything by them? the angel stares at their feet for a minute before looking back at her, their hand resting on the doorknob now.
their eyes glaze over as they often do. when this happens, it’s almost like wormwood is put into autopilot, and they are programmed to jump to the worst possible conclusions, and say terrible things. sometimes even they wonder why they do the things they do– like they can’t control themself.
but they don’t want to argue, especially not right now. when you argue, you run the risk of letting out all the things you’re upset about all at once, and wormy preferred to hold onto those over time.
they shrug, dark grey eyes struggling to hold back whatever emotion it is they’re feeling anymore– since it beats them. it was a lot of things, but at the moment, it was mostly just a hurt kind of exhaustion.
“i guess i’ll wait til morning to come back then.”
and with that, they nod their head once, finally, and let themself out.
