streetlights gave way to gentle reprieve from the infinite dark alleyways, illuminating the streets while the moon hid behind thick, dark clouds; winter’s cold grasp turned italy frigid, mere minutes away from its first gust of snow. few found themselves outside of their warm, comfortable homes —- with the holidays in the rear-view mirror, the souls wandering these streets did so purely out of obligation. or at least … that’s what caesar liked to believe. shivering underneath multiple layers of comfortable, thick clothing, he could see no joy in the freezing temperatures (beyond a brief sight - seeing once a sheet of white found solid foundation atop the ground; then again, he had his children to thank for that).
but something made him stop his journey back home. a sense of dread, an unfamiliar presence. a slight turn of the head revealed what he suspected : someone else was here. and a dreadfully young individual it was. gaze wavers, momentarily distracted by the sudden arrival of a car (a stranger’s; not relevant to anything … so he hoped), before finding its way back to @epitaffia.
“ what’s a boy like you doing outside this late? ”