❛·° › closed starter • @brhaneul
CROWDED PLACES MADE HIM anxious and no one needed to be an expert to see that. zemin had never been much for big crowds and many strangers — even back when had lived in oblivion had he preferred to reside within his comfort zone at all times. he had since branched out of course; nothing was comfortable about killing, but he was getting eerily used to it, to the burning smell of dead flesh and liquid pooling by his feet. this was never how he had wanted, dreamt, figured his life was going to be, but here he was.
and he felt nothing, nothing at all.
he had consumed a champagne glass too much and had long lost count: it took an impressive amount of liquor for the boy to even feel the least affected, his height the only reason for that advantage, and right now he was more alcohol than blood — maybe, the guests considered, that was for the better. he wondered just for a second if his intoxication would stain any predator, should anyone decide to drain him that day, and the thought made him snicker.
there was always an underlying heaviness to everything he did, even something as innocent as a drink too much, and in one inattentive moment the glass slipped out of zemin’s hands and shattered against the ground. «oh. shit,» he murmured almost inaudibly, eyes darting up to see if anyone had noticed.