i think i find comfort in vashwood because of their unwillingness to say outloud how they care and love for one another. like CANONLY, theres so, so much they dont say, yet their actions reflect everything.
i’m pretty sure i’ve spoke on this before but i like to think that they never say more than they need to because of the world they live in, the type of people they are, the type of upbringings theyve had. it all stems back to them not really feeling worthy of the love they are offered.
wolfwood who only thinks of himself as some fucked up modified killing machine and that he believes theres no chance someone as kind hearted as vash would see the good in him, or what little there is left of the good in him. he’s done nothing but kill, he could never redeem himself, and yet vash isn’t scared nor shuns him for it even with his pacifistic ideals.
vash who has seen the brutal truth of wolfwood’s being and still decides he loves him to the very end.
vash who doesnt believe he deserves any ounce of love or commitment because he only hurts those he gets close to. it’s happened before and itll happen again, like hes a walking time bomb and everything will blow up again and the people close to him will die no matter what he does. and wolfwood who canonly sticks beside him until the end! literally calls himself his guide.
vash who has never had true companionship in his 150 years of living, and wolfwood who follows him to the ends of gunsmoke.
just up until vol10, theyre still toeing the line of the relationship theyve created. but the exact moment vash shows up and chooses to prioritize wolfwood over going after knives (the fucking thing he’s been working towards since the big fall, over a hundred years ago) is the moment he steps past that line. its so extremely open and explicit, even wolfwood asks him ‘why are you here?”
while what he says here is true yes, it also sounds like “you cannot die, i’m here to ‘save’ you because i want to live.”
then to this when wolfwood knows and accepts he will die— the sheer HORROR on vash’s face when he realizes wolfwood wont allow him to save him.
few pages ahead, vash’s monologue starts and these old panels come up. “deep down, he had become very close to me.” basically implying that back then, during the ‘shoot’ moment, they weren’t really close. and when vash accused him: “you’re the coward here.”, “you give up all hope so easily”, it was almost surface level in a way? talking to him at surface level
but now, so many chapters later when wolfwood really does give up hope, vash, with all of his developed love through out the story realizes how differently he feels now. wolfwood made him put a fucking gun to his head (giving up hope), and vash who only scolded and accused him, vs vol10 where when wolfwood gives up hope, vash feels straight terror, that he’s really going to lose him. (also the inverted panel is just so gorgeous.)
the whole “isnt that right, wolfwood?” just proves my entire point that vash’s presence here in this fight steps over the line of vulnerability they had created. he knows how he feels, and he knows that wolfwood feels the same, even if hes speaking to him indirectly.
Pairing: Vash the Stampede x Reader
Summary: Caring for Vash when his wings sprout.
CW: angst, fluff, blood, mentions of self-harm, Trimax Vash coded.
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: man oh man do I love bird men.
Vash normally stays huddled up in his room on days like this. There's times where he's had to spend nights on end locked inside until his feathers would painstakingly slowly go away. He'd sit on his bed (if he even had a bed at the time) and wait until he was back to normal. He wouldn't leave, he wouldn't eat, most of the time he wouldn't even sleep. He'd just sit there, alone, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. When it was all over, he'd be in a nest of dusty sheets, surrounded by smears of blood and ripped feathers, with crimson dripping from his back from where he had agonizingly plucked at himself.
A monster, huddled away from sight.
Inhuman.
He would never dare go outside like this.
But of course, when you came around, following closely at his heel at all times, you never allowed him to hide away from you like that. You once came looking for him after his prolonged silence, and you had found him in a pitiful state – eyes rimmed red, bloody nails clutching at his own flesh like it wasn't meant to be on his bones, and most notably, white feathers sprouting from his face and wings spread out from his shoulder blades.
He was mortified, embarrassed, scared.
This is it. You're going to see what he really is, and you're going to leave.
He went through all the stages of grief when he saw your eyes widen and your steps come to a halt. He was ready to hear your screams of terror and then never see you again. As much as he wanted to hide, he didn't look away. If you were going to run, he wanted to get one last good look at your beautiful face.
But you didn't leave him that night. You stayed awake with him, talking to him, and you had no flicker of fear or disgust when you looked at him. You didn't get too close, you didn't try to touch him, you didn't stare at him too intently (though he's sure you wanted to), and in the morning when his feathers were gone, you took him out to breakfast like it was any other day. Like nothing changed.
It took a long time to build up into letting you see him like this. Apart from that first night when you refused to leave his side after you saw the scratches on his back and the blood under his nails, he only allowed your gaze for brief moments, like when you insisted on bringing him food, and when you'd come back to scold him for not eating it.
Eventually, you started sitting with him. You wouldn't speak. You'd simply sit in the same space as him, often in a chair in the corner, sometimes on the floor by the bed as you read a book, doodled in a sketchbook, or took a nap. No touches, no words, but still offering him a presence he's never had before when he's felt the furthest from human.
He was the first one to break the silence when he saw you using one of his shedded feathers as a bookmark of all things. You simply responded, “I like it. It's pretty,” like it was the simplest thing in the world.
It's safe to say that nowadays, if he isn't there to greet you when you come down for breakfast in the mornings, you'll be knocking on his door within the hour.
Tonight, you're sitting on his bed, his back facing you as he sits with his knees to his chest, hiding the cracks in his face from your gaze. Your fingers gently run through his sprouted wings, picking out bits of lint and grains of sand caught in his feathers with a tenderness you always grant him, even when he's like this, when he doesn't even have the heart to look you in the eyes.
“I'm sorry, mayfly.”
“Hush. Don't be silly.”
His wings shift, slowly unfurling from around himself the longer you touch them for, as if trying to nudge into your hands for more. A part of him feels bad for liking the attention, but he doesn't want you to stop, even though the feeling of anyone touching the plumage along his back still feels so foreign to him.
“So soft,” you hum, and he feels the heat rise to his face, his cheeks dusting pink under the cracks and feathers. Something about you saying that makes his chest feel warm, despite how much he hates the part of himself you're referring to.
“You know,” you start to say, pulling his attention back to you as your gentle fingers pluck the dirt from him. “I'd like it if you stopped hiding from me whenever this happens.”
Vash winces at your words. “I don't… like it when you see me like this.”
Don't look at me.
Don't leave me.
These wings, these feathers, these marks along his face and body – they all feel like some curse. It's not something you should be seeing, but he can't help wanting you here. It almost feels like he has to keep his wings from reaching towards you, like they have a mind of their own.
“I know, and I'm sorry, but I'm not leaving you alone,” you say back, your hands carefully running along the lengths of his wings, your palms smoothing over the feathers, and the feeling sends an involuntary shiver up his spine. “Is it bad if I like seeing you like this?”
“Heh. I don't see why you would. It's… strange. I would never blame you if you wanted to run away.” And he wouldn't. He knows this, and he knows you know this. He's told you far too many times that you should leave, that you shouldn't be around a monster like him, and sometimes he was much meaner than he ever intended to be with you. It's something he'll regret regardless of how many times he's apologized and how many times you've forgiven him.
He just… doesn't feel like himself when he's in this state. He wants you far away, but he wants you close. He wants to scream and cry and curl in on himself until he disappears, but he wants to wrap himself around you and keep you with him in a nest of feathers until he forgets the outside world exists. His skin crawls and prickles where his feathers sprout from, and sometimes his flesh feels like it's burning, but he aches for the feeling of your hands running through his plumage. It's gotten so, so much worse since you've been around, and he doesn't know why, but he'll keep that bit to himself. No point in making you feel bad for his alien biology when he himself doesn't understand it all.
“I would never run away from you. Hell, half the time I'm struggling to keep up with you,” and his breath hitches when he suddenly feels your arms wrap around his midsection, your head resting against the bed of feathers on his back.
“I think you're beautiful, Vash. With and without wings.”
‘Beautiful.’
What a strange way of describing him.
“You like them…” he mutters quietly, more to himself than to you, like he's trying to wrap his head around what that could possibly mean. He doesn't even notice the way his feathers fluff up and bury your face in his down.
“I do, but I'm more fond of who they're attached to.”
You care, inhuman and all.
He was ready to never see you again after that first night, but you're still here, and you're preening him of all things. You've stitched his wounds, comforted him during his nightmares, held him when he's cried, but this? This is a level of intimacy he's not familiar with. It's vulnerable and selfless and loving and… so much more than he deserves, but you’re doing it for him. He has no way of repaying all the ways you've healed him. His wounds are still there, and they're far too deep to ever hope for the scars to completely fade, but your presence alone is a soothing balm he doesn't think he could ever live without again.
One day, maybe he'll look you in the eyes when you take care of him like this. Maybe he'll turn around and let you card your fingers through the feathers on his cheeks. Maybe after that, maybe when you're taking a nap, he'll hold you close in his arms like he wants to and envelop you in feathers, and he'll show you, despite how much he wishes they weren't there, how warm his wings can be.
Summary: In a moment of desperation, Y/N reveals a secret that transforms the now uncertain future.
Word Count: 1900+
Warnings: angst, Vash being kidnapped, reader and co. trying to rescue him, female reader, mentions of pregnancy, injuries, blood, acts of violence, attempted murder (because it’s Knives), comfort, reassurance, crying from stress and joy, good ending
a/n: Not proofread. I just watched the 98’ Trigun series, the movie and then the reboot “Trigun Stampede” and I was pleasantly surprised how much I enjoyed it. I usually don’t watch new shows, but Trigun has been something I’ve been meaning to get into ever since I first started watching anime back in 2014. And here we are…
Main Masterlist
The moment his eyes laid on her his heart stopped. “No! No, get out of here! You shouldn’t be here!”
Y/N almost scoffed at his words as she approached him with haste. “You think I’m really just gonna turn around and leave you?” She attempted to unlock the chains bound around his wrists, and managed to get a few off.
“If he realizes you’re here, he’ll kill you! You know that!”
“You would do it for me!” Y/N shouted back at him, her eyes brimming with the slightest of tears.
Before Vash could come with any kind of response, Y/N was ripped away from his side that had her letting out a scream. She felt a white hot pain in her calf, the sharp edges of Knives’ abilities digging deep into her flesh when she looked down.
The coil of blades tightened around her calf causing her to shriek in pain.
“Nai, stop it! Please!” Vash begged, as he tugged helplessly against the only chain keeping him bolted to the wall.
“This pathetic human tried to set you free, but I’ll take care of this soon enough.” Knives sneered, forcing Y/N to a standing position she couldn’t fully maintain from her injury.
The metallic coils came out from his back, slowly inching closer and closer to her body. She gulped hard, giving one last look to Vash before spouting out the only thing that came to mind.
“I’m pregnant.”
Knives smirked, expression almost amused by her desperate ploy. “Did you really think that would matter to me?”
She gulped as a cold sweat dripped down the back of her neck. “It would if it was Vash’s baby.”
If she had been paying attention, Y/N would’ve heard the slightest of gasps leave Vash’s mouth but she was too busy maintaining eye contact with the man that held her hostage in his grip; a grip that grew tighter once she uttered those words.
“That’s not possible.” He growled back to her.
This time she smirked as the urge to taunt him pushed her rationale to the back of her mind, “How are you so sure? You and Vash are the only independents in the world, and I don’t think that you’ve tested the theory yourself.”
His grip tightened around her leg, causing her smirk to die on her lips while the heat of her own blood dripped into a puddle on the floor. “It’s not possible; plants are perfect in every way, bringing life to this broken world and humans are disgustingly flawed, spreading like the pathetic parasites you all are!”
“It is possible!” Y/N shouted back to him, surprised to hear the desperation cause her voice to waver. “A plant and human hybrid; the only one of its kind. A new species, a new life. Would you really destroy one of your own?”
In a blink, Knives whipped the pointed edge of one of his blades a mere inch from her eye threatening to gouge it out; the anger within him reaching its boiling point. “You are not one of my own!”
Y/N took the smallest of breaths, fearing that any sudden movement would cause her to lose an eye. “But Vash is.”
Knives’ eyes narrowed but otherwise made no other movements as he took in her words.
“And if you care about your brother, you wouldn’t murder the one thing he loves.”
Suddenly, the fluorescent lights blacked out causing an immediate red night to replace it as a loud whirring sound crashed somewhere in the building.
“What is this?” Knives muttered out loud as he became distracted by the sound and lights.
Before he could do anything the sound of bullets whizzing toward causing him to duck away, loosening his grip on Y/N completely. He made quick movements backward, using his bladed coils as a shield from the spray of bullets being fired at him.
Then while bullets still rained from beyond the darkness of the hallway facing him, a cacophony of multiple metallic objects clinking against the floor echoed throughout the gigantic room. Knives could make out several cynical objects hit the floor before they doused the room in smoke, a large plume of fog blocking his view of anything.
Vash stared in shock for a moment then snapped back to reality when he saw the familiar figure approaching him, “Meryl? What are you doing here?”
“Hush now! We’re here to save you!” Meryl quickly retorted while still a lockpick into the only cuff keeping Vash chained up. Once she unlocked it, she grabbed his hand and b-lined for the exit.
“Wait! What about Y/N? I have to go get her!” Vash pleaded, pulling back from Meryl a bit as they ran.
“Don’t worry, Wolfwood and Roberto got her! Now let’s go!” She shouted over the gunfire.
Vash, though scared, trusted her word and followed her without resistance.
It took a while because as it turned out, Wolfwood had thrown a few more smoke bombs as they ran into the hallway to cover their tracks but eventually Vash and Meryl managed to meet up with Wolfwood and Roberto further down.
When Vash saw Y/N, bleeding and being held up by Roberto he ran to her. “Y/N, are you okay? You’re bleeding so much.”
Y/N shook her head in a whimper, in too much pain to offer any kind of reply.
“Of course, she’s not okay. She’s got cuts all over her leg and she’s bleeding all over the place.” Roberto quipped with Y/N’s arm still over his shoulder while he kept her standing.
“Hate to break up the reunion, but if we don’t get out of here soon a bleeding leg is gonna be the least of our worries.” Wolfwood cut in, keeping a sharp eye on the hallway they just escaped from.
“But Y/N can’t run, how are we gonna get outta here before Knives finds us?” Meryl asked with urgency, her own panic rising to the surface.
“Give her to me.” Vash said, walking over in front of Y/N and crouching down. “Get on my back and I’ll carry you.”
Without a word, Y/N slipped her arm from around Roberto’s shoulder and precariously leaned down to wrap her arms around Vash’s neck and legs around his waist. He reached back to grip the underside of her thighs and propped her up as he stood.
She made a muffled hiss as the pressure of moving her leg at all caused pain to shoot up through her body.
“Ready?” Vash asked her, glancing over his shoulder at her. She gave a pained nod before tucking her face into the back of his neck.
“Okay, let’s blow this joint.” Wolfwood huffed, turning to face them.
Everyone began running as fast as they could out of the building and just when they’d turned their backs to the hall, several bladed whips propelled out from the smoke screen towards their direction.
“Watch out!” Wolfwood shouted, stopping briefly to point his cross shaped gun towards the blades and fired. He aimed with precision, each bullet bouncing off the whips as it made each one change trajectories.
“Wolfwood!” Vash exclaimed and too, stopped briefly to wait.
“Keep running, Needle-noggin! I got this!”
Vash hesitantly kept running, and glanced over his shoulder again in time to see Wolfwood making a quick getaway with them after shooting a couple more times.
Luckily, the team managed to escape the maze-like building and to the outside. They ran and ran and ran until they were outside the city; their truck waiting for them not too far from the main entrance. In a flash, they hurried inside and Meryl punched the gas without even bothering with her seatbelt; leaving puffs of sand in their wake.
She floored it a good fifteen minutes before Vash told her to stop. Once stopped Vash administered some first aid to Y/N’s leg, giving them a moment to talk.
Vash had finished cleaning all the cuts in her once bloodied limb when he spoke. “Is it true? That you’re pregnant?”
He knew that while Y/N had said such a thing in the heat of the moment so Knives would spare her, he couldn’t deny the sincerity of her words. She sounded so scared, so afraid for not just her own life but possibly her baby’s as well.
Y/N took a moment to prepare her words and she timidly nodded. “I think so.”
“How long have you suspected?” Vash spoke softly, keeping his voice low as if speaking at normal volume would cause her to shatter.
“A couple of we-EKS!” She hissed when Vash began applying the bandages to the open wounds which made him utter out a quick apology, though continued to wrap her leg.
Vash said nothing, his brain thinking a million miles a minute. He honestly didn’t know what to think; he was a plant and Y/N was a human, could plants and humans even procreate? Or was it something else, something life threatening? He did notice in the last few weeks that Y/N hadn’t been acting like herself but he thought perhaps it was the heat getting to her, or maybe they had been stuck inside the car for too long or even that time of the month but the idea of her carrying his child never crossed his mind. He assumed that because he and Y/N were two different species, there was no way.
“Vash?” Y/N called to him, bringing him out of his thoughts and back to reality.
He looked up at her, worry and fear etched in her face. “Sorry, love.”
“It’s okay. I understand that it’s probably a lot to take in.”
Vash shook his head, “I was just lost in thought.”
“Are you upset?” Y/N nervously asked, making Vash raise his hand to gently cup her cheek as a tender smile graced his lips.
“Of course I’m not upset, I’m only worried about you since I’m not completely sure if it’s possible for plants and humans to have children together.” He carefully explained watching Y/N tilt her cheek to rest fully into his palm.
Y/N sighed, “I’m not sure either but all the symptoms are there. And even though I don’t know much about plants, I can’t imagine what else it could be.”
Vash sat up on his knees, retracting his hand from her face but soon leaned forward to hug her from her spot from the truck. She happily reciprocated when she wrapped her arms around his midsection, face buried in his shoulder.
“We should go see Luida.” He suggested kissing her temple and stroking her back comfortingly.
He felt her nod against him. “She can fix up your leg and she probably knows more about plants than I do or something along those lines that might help figure this whole thing out.”
“Okay.” Y/N simply said, going silent and enjoying the presence of Vash holding her.
Vash didn’t say anything else either and like Y/N, opted to enjoy the warmth of her against him.
He thought back to only minutes earlier, when Y/N had attempted to save him and Knives quickly finding her, hurting her and the screams she let out.
Never in his life did he ever want to hear those sounds again.
From here on out, Vash vowed to himself he would do everything in his power to keep her safe, and with the new information of Y/N’s possible condition, he‘d protect his child all the same.
Eventually, at 5:15 in the morning, after making you come three times, Vash reached up to turn the lamp off. After pulling the sheets tighter around you both, he leaned against your chest and said, "I can hear your heart."
The words were simple and sweet. Your face lit up with a little smile, but then you felt your heart do something funny - it thumped, thumped, thumped in the proverbial part of your organ. At the moment the moon and sun coexisted in the sky, turning the room into a strange, yet soothing pale glow, you had a terrible thought: You liked him. You really, really liked him. Like, love-like him. In the metaphorical sense, with your heart. Like you might see an arrow lodged right into that mass of bloody, bleeding muscles in your chest if you had an x-ray.
What the fuck was wrong with you? You weren't supposed to fall for him.
But,
you wondered what he would say if you told him. What he would do if you told him your deep, dark, black-hole secret, the one that had the potential to swallow up your whole being. Would he stay anyway, or ...?
You can read the previous Vash fic here: The Hickey on Your Neck
P.s: this is one of my favorite scenes from Tristamp, so sexy and...um...hot...giving me dirty thoughts hot!
Hey there! Can you do a vash x reader request where they get into a big argument and reader starts to cry? Like they're still mad at him but they can't stop those tears from flowing
Of course! Love some angst and I am gonna a lil cruel with this one too, so apologies in advance I live for pain.
TW: none really just a copious amount of angst with no comfort >:3
Vash never intended to make you cry, to break your heart into a million pieces in that paper thin walled motel. He just wanted you to be safe, to not put yourself in harms way. But here he was, practically towering over you as you both yelled at each other.
You had accusatory finger pressed to his chest, while Vash flung his arms around to try and get his point across. Neither party was going to give in to other, no matter how much petty insults were thrown between the two.
"Why can't you just accept my fucking help? Everytime you run off and get yourself in trouble, I'm expected to sit back and just let it happen? Fuck that!" You spat angrily, shoving Vash away from you as his face scrunched into a look of agitated disbelief.
"Because you get yourself hurt each time you interfere! What happens if you get killed one day because you can't keep to your business!" Vash countered, clearly frustrated that you weren't understanding him at all. Why didn't you see he just wanted to protect you?
An offended scoff let your lips, arms folded over your chest as you glared at him. "That will never happen! I'm not incompetent you know, I can look after myself!"
"You are incompetent! Not to mention cocky and uptight, you wield a gun like you're not absolutely horrendous with it, and don't even get me started on your flimsy excuses of why you intervene! You're not as good as you think you are and I don't need someone like you to jump to my rescue!" Vash slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide upon realising what had just slipped from his lips. Before he knew it, apologies spilled frantically out towards you, only to stop once he saw the tears slip down your cheeks.
Hot, anger filled tears streamed from your eyes, teeth clenched as you tried to silence your sobs. Vash moved forward, hands outstretched attempting to comfort you, only for you to shove him away. You desperately tried to wipe those tears away, angry words pouring from your lips as you continued to argue with Vash.
"I'm sorry I care about you, I'm sorry I don't want to see you get fucking hurt! It's not my fault I got stuck with an ungrateful boyfriend!" You sobbed, now the only one speaking as Vash remained silent, guilt evident having spoken to you so cruelly. So he allowed you to scream, yell and shove him even when he got too close in attempts to calm you.
Vash was so deep in his mind that he hadn't realised you'd become silent, storming past his sullen form as you slammed the door of the motel room, signalling your departure. Now alone in the suffocating room, Vash sat on the edge of the bed, head resting in his hands. He knew you've probably gone to Meryl, spending the night in her rented room while you calmed down. It wouldn't surprise him if the whole motel heard your screaming match, so Meryl comforting you at least brought some comfort, but he knew either way the morning would not be fun.
For now, Vash would let you cry it out, leaving you to catch your breath. Come morning he'd try to mend the scars he metaphorically cut into your heart, asking for forgiveness. Perhaps Vash ought to put more trust in your skills, maybe even take time out of the groups breaks to hone your shooting capabilities, just enough to have some peace of mind that you'd be safe jumping to his rescue.
But until then, he'd remain awake, thinking back on what he could've said instead of what he did. Regretting hurting your feelings.
Sorry that I’ve turned the fluffy request into a depressing stream of Vash’s consciousness. Hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless
After the latest usual brawl and a flee from a small town next to the almost identical neighboring one, their group has ended up stumbling into the small tavern, almost fully packed with patrons. The girls rushed straight to the bar to order water, while Wolfwood had disappeared into the dark street saying he will arrange the hotel booking, since he needs to smoke and ponder about “stuff” as he phrased it.
That left Vash sitting hunched all alone in the corner. He was weighed by the usual thoughts, that seemed to visit him often these last years since Knives emerged and proceeded with his plans. Vash leaned over the table, the hurt and angry faces of townsfolk of the town which they’ve left in desolation during the shootout with bounty hunters still so vivid in his mind. He did that again. He caused the usual havoc and wreckage to the homes of dozens innocent town dwellers, who were just trying to live their lives. He surely is a humanoid typhoon, isn’t he?
A cheerful chirping sounds of familiar voice and a small thud of the bourbon bottle accompanied by two glasses being placed in front of him distracted him from his inner voice.
He looked up at the intruder and it was you, smiling at him with your oh so warm smile. The same one you’ve usually shown to kids you saw during your travels, to the people you’ve assisted, as well as to people who have helped your group instead. It was broad and a bit crooked at one side, the one who warmed him from the inside just like morning suns would. Not yet scorching hot, but oh so cozily engulfing him after the cold desert night.
“Drink with me and let’s go dance!” He heard your exclamation through the noises of clinking glasses, crass conversations, laughter and people dancing to the modest accompaniment of a guitarist and a flute player.
He smiled at you reassuringly and then shook his head. “I’m a bit tired, so I’ll just stay here and watch over you, girls. Go and have fun for me okay?” he replied, gently pressing his glass of bourbon to yours in a toast. “I’ll be here drinking for you to have a good night”
He then watched how your small figure deftly maneuvered between tables and sitting people, joining a small crowd gathered on dancing floor. You’ve always been so graceful in your movements, so dexterous yet possessing something soft as well. He observed the way you swayed to the rhythm, soon joined by Millie and Meryl, the three of you sharing laughs and smiles, while engaging in a dance. His eyes darted to the other people dancing beside you. They all were mostly just simple townsfolk having leisure time before returning to their hard jobs the next day. His eyes glided over their faces: drunken, happy, relieved, full of life.
Vash has always been in awe at how resilient the dwellers of Gunsmoke actually are. He admired the nature of humans, always stiving for happiness and the betterment of their lives, no matter how miniscule and short-lived moments can be. He tried to drown his heavy thoughts in sensory feelings, concentrating on how the tavern was filled with musky smell of sweat, tobacco, cheap booze and hearty vegetable stew some of the patrons were indulging in. The sounds of talking and laughing, the simple melody and people’s rhythmical stomping of feet. The sight of your hair swaying as you danced like there was no bother in your life, Millie’s and Meryl’s drunken uneven steps, even a local boy’s shy smile and neck crooned to face you closer… all this was a nice distraction.
If you had stayed in this town long enough, he would have gotten to know and remember his name. He would’ve remembered the faces and names of all the people living here. Would’ve known all their little quirks and habits, all the troubles that weigh on their shoulders, everything that makes them laugh and brings them joy. He felt so tired and so disconnected from this world sometimes, yet he knew he still had his mission to accomplish, so he allowed himself to indulge in people watching as it made him feel closer to humanity, closer to something that he might’ve described as a feeling of belonging somewhere. But did he really? Belong somewhere...
He watched as you laughed at something the boy told you, accepting his offer to dance, as you eagerly put your hand in his. Would it have been better if it was his hand instead? Would you have smiled at him with the same smile? Or would it have been more…tender instead? Would he have been able to tug your hair behind your ear neatly instead of this boy?
It doesn’t matter in the end, since he will always walk this planet alone. At least he can watch over you while you walk next to him, no matter how short-lived it is.
It better be short. It better be…since all of you cannot stay close to him after all is said and done. But he’ll think about it tomorrow. Tonight is all about people watching, after all.
