#kjnMKJNERMKHJNM

[sunlessea]

he feels like he's going to throw up. the moments he'd always sought out, however unconsciously, make him anxious now, where guilt and fear mingle in the difficulty he feels swallowing whenever it's around now-a-days. he doesn't want this, the distance he's started creating between himself and fires. ten years he'd slowly braved a slow crawl to its side, not entirely willfully, where it had taken an interest itself. and now... for what? why had he done this? he should have never had plagues intercept its letter. he should've never reminded it of cassius.

"i'm sorry." he listlessly picks at strings coming off the grandiose cloak he oft adorns when in public, far too uppity in appearance for a mere londoner. if only it'd known from the beginning. maybe he'd have been killed by it ... but maybe it would've hurt less, back then, when he hadn't had time to fall in love with his enemy turned star-crossed lover proper. "i don't mean to offend you, mr fires. i'm just ... busy today." the book shop behind him is dead. there isn't a single customer. it isn't even open... "ah, that is ... i'm busy ... lately." he had rejected its invitations for nearly a month now, since the festive season, where he never has before.

he's breaking his own heart, but one of them would've had to do it, eventually. he doesn't know how to address the letters, yet. the truth. maybe he should've run earlier than this. stupid, stupid, lovestruck boy.

he can't look up at it. all these years begging it notice how in love with it he was ... and only now he's scared of it?

"please forgive me."

@londonfallen / mr fires

#londonfallen #a deceptively depressing starter #gl with that ely #:skull emoji: #kjnMKJNERMKHJNM #THERE U GO #` ✞ fires & elysium. ⁞ the bitterness of winter and the sweetness of spring‚ we are poets and our story is our masterpiece. #` ✞ elysium. ⁞ and if i only could‚ i’d make a deal with the gods.