vanitas doesn’t expect the storm that comes tonight. it’s vile and violent, dragging heaven’s wrath upon the earth to exact some sort of karmic revenge. though the rain is unexpected, it’s also most welcome, because with it comes the promise of comfort from memories long past. it’s something to which he can cling, especially since it seemed as though the man that walked into his life seemed to have walked quickly out of it as well. vanitas solvei does not despair— he’s learned that people he love always walk away at some point or another so he survives the disappointment by shoving it’s unwelcome face somewhere deep into his conscience. he does not despair. it’s why he sits with whiskey bottle in hand in the bay window of his home, watching quietly as relentless rain pounds the pavement and is joined by the accomplice of hail. from bad to worse, always.
in all honesty, he has no business staying up at an ungodly hour as three in the morning, but he can’t help himself. the whiskey warms his chest more than anything he convinces himself ever could, especially cain’s ever - charming words. it’s the life they lead, he knows, but he can’t convince himself that anyone will ever willingly stay. maybe he’s been spirited away somewhere and found himself another plaything far more pliant than himself. a comforting thought— he laughs, and bile threatens to spill over. he doesn’t despair, he thinks, but LIES.
the list of unexpected events for the day grows longer when he hears the front door opening. immediately, he reaches for the gun in his belt and aims it at his would - be guest ( he never even bothered changing out of his clothes from earlier. fuck. ) he’s clearly not expecting guests at this hour, but the way his life is lead makes vanitas jump at every shadow.
❛ ‘th fuck’re you and what do you want? ❜
have this dumbass || @everglows
