Feb 2, 2019
where: Athos :: Nikolay’s Bedroom — Balcony when: Returning from Russia who: open starter
The night is quiet. Midnight velvet, pure, stilled, and he is blanketed beneath it. The warm black hugging him. A comfort he lapped up after the frigid bite of Russia’s unrelenting winter. He exhales deeply, once; his stiff form loosens a notch. He needed this. The armor he carried, his unrelenting anger, it could only burn hot for so long before it melted away and all that was left of him was a heart that ached for home. So he surrendered to his heart, once. He slipped in under the cover of night and climbed the stairs two at a time before seeking refuge in his old room, untouched despite his being gone for months.