#ft. cyn

[nikolairas]

@crespocynthia

he had a terrible dream, the night after the hospital. he hadn’t been able to get the thought of fausto’s body lying there out of his mind, and now fausto had joined the nightmares along with magnus. both of them haunted him. he wondered if cynthia was plagued by anything similar. seeing her face at the gala brings back the nightmares, so jarring that he drops his drink on the floor, glass shattering around him. people shout, dive in other directions, but his expression is blank for just a little too long. he shakes himself out of it, mumbling, “sorry, sorry, sorry.” he’s not sure what it’s for. 

[nikolairas]

@crespocynthia

he’d been dreading this day since he’d made the promise. he had little understanding of why cynthia would even want to see him after what they’d discussed, but maybe it was a desire for revenge. after all, he couldn’t think of a worse punishment than having to look fausto in the face and apologize. the two had become friends more out of convenience than anything and once, nikolai had thought they had a mutual understanding. but they’d had an unforgivable argument the night before fausto had the accident and still, fausto’s condition caused nikolai to feel little remorse. he didn’t want to apologize. still, he sat in the waiting room with a book, unable to focus on the words as he waited for cynthia to arrive. there was no way in hell he was doing this without her, but he really just wanted to get it over with. 

when she arrived, he found himself still unable to meet her gaze. he was tight-lipped and unfriendly, hopeful that they could put all of this behind them soon. “told you i’d be here,” he commented. “so, let’s do this quickly. i have places to be.” 

[nikolairas]

wait—you and cyn?

“people deal with grief in many different ways.”