pulling the triggers. ❖ cross
In truth, if he could avoid meeting with any of his previous affiliations, it'd make his life a whole lot easier and better here. But it seems to be impossible, because a certain bookman refuses to leave him alone and without his sword-wielding companion, he's a little lost. It's been over three months now since he's gotten dropped here and he's not went out much, In fact, he avoids it. You'd think he was antisocial from holing himself up in his apartment so much, but he's nothing of the sort. Allen Walker is a kind young man, who is unfortunately been met with cruel circumstances and an even crueler past behind him. It doesn't make it easy to interact with others and he'd rather not deal with accidentally hurting someone because of it.
But to say that he didn't miss the interact between loved ones would be a lie. It's just that he had no way of going about it, no way to start a conversation, no way to place himself in the middle of anything. And yet here he finds himself thinking of someone who'd been gone for a long time. Dull eyes stared at nothing in particular and in them nothing was reflected. He was looking, but not really. He'd taken to sitting on a bench in front of his apartment complex these days, just to find some peace. It wasn't healthy to always be inside, after all and the people who passed never bothered him, so it was perfect.
If one were to look at him, they'd say he looked broken. He sighs to himself, thinking that he should go back inside soon, that is until someone plops down right next to him. A much older male, from what he could tell. The elongated sigh they gave was enough to tell him so. If he were his old self, he might've started up a conversation and even helped the gentleman, but he couldn't find it in himself to muster up his usually cheerful tone. Though he does offer a quick glance to see what he looks like and much to his surprise, it's someone he's very familiar with.
Eyes widen and he sits up straight. Was he hallucinating? It absolutely couldn't be.
Cross Marian had once again found his way to the young exorcist and yet Allen could do nothing but stare in awe.
There his master sat, paying him no mind. As if everything were completely normal, as if he hadn't been believed to be dead, as if he didn't worry his pupil to death. Eyes soften as he tries to gain the courage to speak, tears now threatened to fall. ❝ Master... ❞
❝ I thought you were dead. ❞