"well, well, well. ain't this something."
for added dramatic effect, butcher gives @failedcrown an extended once-over before opening the door to his apartment fully, a silent invitation inside. when he kicks the door closed, he fingers at the hospital bracelet he hasn't had the time to cut off his wrist and, for a moment, wonders if she can smell it on him--the tumor, the death.
either way, it doesn't make much difference. though it seems as though both of them may be headed toward the same whimper of an end rather than the bang he'd long believed he was destined for, all things considered.
if he were to allow himself a moment to introspect on whatever it is he's feeling--now and at any given moment--he thinks he'd be relieved to see her.
"i reckon that i ought to consider myself grateful, given that i'm a pit stop on the brave maeve farewell tour."









