Feeling good, about anything, always felt a little wrong to him. Even when times were good and peace, or something like it, colored everything in shades of rose-gold... even then, it never felt right to feel good. Maybe it is biological, a faulty rung in a double helix hidden in his blood. Maybe it is spiritual, his stained soul heavy with too many memories of too many lifetimes. Maybe it is just rotten chance. He never could be considered a lucky man, by any measure.
Whatever the reason is, it is beyond his comprehension why he does not want to feel good right now. He does not want comfort, or distraction. It is easy to feel like shit, and in contrast it takes so, so much effort to feel even marginally better. Suffering is the least he could do in memory of the dead...
But although the breath rattles in his chest he feels it still has the strength, the stubborn desire, to make it to the next day. Teiran is damn stubborn too, and he finds himself slightly charmed and mostly annoyed by it.
"I hate parties," she says, and his eyes warm with understanding. At first he had hated them because of envy-- he could not understand how everyone could be so happy, all crammed together in hot, noisy rooms. Later he would hate them because of their decadence. He does not hate them anymore, but neither does he particularly enjoy them. They serve their purpose, and he views them as he would any tool. But Teiran's hate of parties stems from a different reason. To him it seems this reason is responsibility. She feels responsible for maintaining the peace, even if it means unwanted encounters (talkative drunkards) and he can respect that. Eik had to learn responsibility, it was not ingrained in him.
"But you're so good at babysitting." He coughs, the sound ragged and course. Maybe it is supposed to be a laugh, for there was a sarcastic tone to his words. He thinks they both know that just because you're good at something doesn't mean it gives you pleasure to do.
"I'll be okay," Eik says when the coughing passes. "Really." He can't tell if she believes him. He doesn't know if he has the energy to care. "Thank you. For what you do." It's not her
(what he means is "thank you for who you are")
He's never had the opportunity to say it before but it seems important to do so now.
I have let myself go where the dust
E I K
Has the color of nothing
art by Footybandit
@Teiran
Time makes fools of us all
