“I hope it works out for you.”
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖜: 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖜𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓.
⸻ lull in the air hangs heavy above both men like an anvil . comfort has come to him in the form of lucifer’s son ; offspring of the entity whose name has buried its hooks into the night his soul became lost . painted lips twitch , feigning wry smirk to surface . i guess not everything is as it seems , cerebrates the crow to his namesake . she caws her response . but we’re well familiar with that fact .
abashed , the devil stood & felt how awful goodness is . . . & saw virtue in her shape , how lovely : & pined his loss .
❝ . . . thank you , elliot . ❞ is what he simply — albeit sincerely — settles on at last . draws an empty breath , gaze growing distant . how strange that in silence one’s thoughts are roaring . lately , it’s been his default state . death allows one much time to think . ❝ i suppose you of all people would know . . . am i still going to heaven ? ❞