a memory of bravery;
to mikhail, death has become his closest acquaintance, above all and everyone else. it has been long since he’s braved the seas, and even longer since he’s tried to run for anything. yet the loss of life is usually left behind, and not met with his own eyes, and not inhaled by a sense of smell forsaken by the stars to work too dam well. it persists, above everyone else, above the most humane smells; death defines them all, and often it comes too soon, and too quick, and mikhail is once again powerless. too frozen in place, too struck with horror to act.
his tears -- unwarranted -- are not the only ones shed. it taints the memory of home, of the scent that clings onto her when she arrives fresh from surya to give him a little visit. his feet carry him to home, to the last piece of home that exists, and before he knows it he is standing before the other male, arms kept to himself and within the hooded cloak (as if it can protect him from something like this).
mikhail’s lips part to speak, to say something soothing, but he’s never been too good with them.
“daehyun.”
his voice will be muffled by the mask that hides most of his face, and the imperfections upon it that mark him as no longer human (something less than that, but nothing more). all he manages is a single word, meant to call attention, and to ask if, indeed, this is the muddled remnant of a childhood once lost.
@rgdaehyun
