A Lonely Morning
(( Firstly, thank you for following me on this excursions for the lumblr. It’ll be a collection of his aesthetic, face claim, things he likes, general RP and my own writings or Lum’s journaling - whatever, you name it. So without hesitation, here’s the first of my writings for Lum and boy is it freakin angsty because he’s sour about Love is In The Air.))
The aging paladin stood in the entryway to his home, seeing off the golden-haired mane that was his play-thing for the night. He watched the younger elf eventually disappear before he shut the door behind him before moving to sit at his desk.
The estate was similar to Lumeal; clean, hygienic with sweet fruity smell with undertones of wood and old paper. However, due to his brutish style one wouldn’t guess that bookshelves lined the walls of his home with various books to tomes with each in rather pristine condition. The self proclaimed title of librarian was true.
With a heavy sigh, the paladin would brush his hair from his face - pulling it back into a high ponytail as he commenced with his simple morning routine. A little writing, a little reading, a little stretching, a little eating… but something pulled at his mind as he sat in front of an open book.
You’ve been used, you dumb oaf.
It was the truth. He’d actually taken a liking to the lover he’d brought home. One he’d known for some time now and he’d been used as a quick remedy to his partner’s issues. How dumb could the older Sin’dorei be to be so hopeful?
For fucks sake, you invited him to the Lover’s Dance and he played you like a fiddle.
The Commander closed the book, his fingers dancing across the leather of the binding as he chuckled to himself - listening to his self-deprecating consciousness.
As he stood and walked to the table where he kept the plated mess of armor he wore; his mind drifted further back. He missed Sparrow, his little Clara. The overly excited, happy monk who carried a stuffed bear in her bag - her intricate hair with braids and feathers abound. The way she danced around him and her caring nature for everyone of the members of the Verdict.
Sparrow was no longer around; nor was Medestria or his son. Loneliness filled his home and perhaps it would be better that way. He was a soldier after all - and who knew if he would make it home each night.
He glanced in the mirror as he fixed the eyepatch into position over his right eye before he disappeared through the door to attend to his day.
By himself.
Just like how he’ll attend the Lover’s Dance.
