ros && theon; somewhere i will find peace.
curled; tucked into the frigid cold snow, alongside a warm - inn, theon felt his mind contract. / caught between reek && theon. wavering, on instability, && unkindness. the inn would only accept coin, which theon did not possess. stomach growled, yet, theon was used to days without food; water. even, shelter was a foreign concept to him now. tucked in cold temperature, pressed to the wooden structure, only the hard earth could keep him company here. / theon agonized over the soft noise of men, with ladies bought for the night. their sounds of lust traveled down from broken windows. skin boiled with heat. memories of paying coin for a warm body, eagerly reminded him of times as theon. -- times that could never be again. never. -- even as a free being; he was forever what ramsey made of him.
stinking, shamed. -- reeking filth. swallowing bile down his throat. theon clenched his eyes shut, willed the wind to drown out those pleasurable sounds. / it made him ache. blood rush south, where there was barely a stub to fill. shame overtook him. hands covered his ears. twitches began on his face. theon began to rock. pray for sleep. the warmth of the wood, was the only reason he stayed put. he would freeze in the snow. / he had cleared a patch of dead grass right against the building. so the white fluff did not chill him, only the cold earth did.
@untilweblvvd
