He's lost track of time, but he hasn't forgotten how it felt to look upon his father's bodiless, eyeless, empty fucking head. There is no way for him to forget the way his head swam, vision going black as the world spun just enough to send him walking away from Eli and Axel to find purchase upon the wall. He'd blamed it on his injuries, playing it off as an offensive smell, but in reality - it had been the end of an era that did it. Now, he's lying on his bed, dressed for a day that has gone on around him without his involvement. His sights are set upon the ceiling, and Lev counts the brief spots in his vision if only to attempt to keep from thinking too hard. Even that doesn't work, caught up in brief exchanges over text message that force him back to reality. He turns his attentions elsewhere: Axel. The invitation is extended, a sigh escaping him as he drops his phone at his side, his hand coming to rest on it. A deep breath in, a slow breath out. The process is tedious, and it is only when Axel walks in that he stops altogether. Blinking through it, his brow furrows, a crack in the ceiling suddenly holding his attention. So small, yet the implications are beyond comprehension. Lev pats the space beside him in an unspoken invitation before he voices his innermost thoughts. "You think he knew what was coming?"
@xcontrolledchaosx
