light contracts and splits into fragile prisms, before reforming then shattering again. a lofty balance can be found but never truly grasped, and perhaps that was simply the way of the in-between. here and there. nowhere. the outside world always did have a distinct smell to it, and that smell clung onto him just as it did any other human. but he’s no human now, is he? she never strikes fast, though she is quick to catch on. there is a peel of static, a certain sound, clattering from somewhere else, and before long the gap splits open.
❝ you’ve caused quite the ruckus, you know. ❞ hands slip upon another, folded just beneath her chin. she smiles, knowingly, a brush of reality breaks where she floats just above him. death marked this one quite well. ❝ whether intentionally or not. ❞
♡ @miburoni