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POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 15:41:03 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]“If you’re worried…”

He flicks the end of the cig with his other hand, watching the ash flake off and dissipate into the trickling snow. “You can stay the night.” A terrible decision by all means but one made with a clouded mind looking out for her ‘best interest’. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”

They sit there for a while. No matter how much time passes he can still taste her on his lips. He takes another puff to erase it but even the smoke reminds him of her. It ruins his mood but he hides it with a flat expression.

In the streets below, some of the lights start to die out as standard businesses close for the evening. Plenty of late night establishments remain open but the city lacks the same life as small sections of each block go dark. That means he only has a few more hours before everything goes dark.

“Tch.”

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POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 16:06:44 GMT

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She focuses on her breathing and his, the ragged breath she takes, the quiet burning of paper turning to ash. When he flicks his cigarette she mimics the action, watching the embers burn away and disappear in the wind. Snowflakes whisk past them and it's cold, colder now that the sun has disappeared beneath the horizon hours ago. The twinkle of street lights and Christmas decorations illuminates the streets, but soon even those wink out of existence.[break][break]

And it brings her no relief to the tightness in her chest, to the cold fingers trailing down her back.[break][break]

He offers she stay with him and she says nothing at first, staring at the bud between her fingers. Its nearly spent, and she can feel its heat against her skin. [break][break]

"Okay."[break][break]

The grip she has on his arm relaxes and she seems to finally take a breath, a sigh of relief. Perhaps she's making a mistake, seeking him out to grant her that security, but so be it.[break][break]

[break]

notes: ...

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FERNANDO SILPH

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silph

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POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 16:20:51 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]Enough time passes that even his smokes comes to a bitter end. Each puff he takes is cherished, accounted for with it limited life span, held from the bottom of his heart as white turns to black, muddled in soot and embers until it burns out of existence. Only then does he decide to retire. But something keeps him. A pinpoint clarity only strike him at the crack of midnight.

“Hey.”

More light dies out until only a few speckles of decorations keep the streets visible.

“Do you resent Stone for rejecting you?”

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stormy, bronwen

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twenty-five

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POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 16:30:54 GMT

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Her last puff turns to ash against her fingers, and she lets it disappear in the wind, lost in her exhale. She replaces that hand deep in her pocket. Despite her lack of cold, she shivers, tucking her chin into the collar of her jacket.[break][break]

Fernando breaks the silence with a question that reignites a dull pain. She stares ahead at the lights that remain. Very slowly, as if she's considering her answer, she begins to shake her head.[break][break]

"No. I don't think I ever could."[break][break]

She had loved him, or she thought she had. She probably still did.[break][break]

[break]

notes: ...

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FERNANDO SILPH

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silph

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POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 17:13:19 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]“Good.”

A sudden gust of wind blows past them, as if to punish him for bringing it up. He grimaces in the face of winter’s approach, unyielding as it batters his exposed skin, drying it out in the process. Whatever warmth they stirred into his face earlier is gone, evident in the ghastly paleness that makes up the foundation of his skin tone.

“He had the responsibility of Champion while handling the death of his father. He still had to worry about his family along with everything else on his plate. A person in that situation isn’t one suited to settle down, much less devote themselves to someone.”

The whole incident surrounding Olivia Abbiati is something Fernando remains ignorant about. Even so, his statement would still stand regardless of whatever stupid decisions Stone made thereafter. Their reasonings and intentions may differ but the result remains the same. It’s one of the rare times Fernando can say he agrees wholeheartedly with his short-lived rival.

“I saw cait alfric the other day. She’s with someone now. She seems happy.”

The sudden switch up is intentional. There’s a story to tell between these two separate points.

He coaxes the carton out from his pocket and slips the lid back to reveal his last cig. For a moment, he debates starting another, especially with the evening coming to a close. On a whim, he points it at her, offering it to her as a scapegoat for making the final decision. If she takes it then he doesn’t have to worry about it— a fast copout for his indecisiveness.

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POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 17:21:15 GMT

[nospaces][googlefont=Open+Sans:400,700,700i|Oswald:300,600]

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"I know."[break][break]

And she had been selfish to be angry with him, she knew. Unkind words had been shared and not properly redeemed before he had died. That, she thinks, is what she resents the most.[break][break]

Whatever else Alexander had been up to, with Olivia Abbiati and her sister had been, for the most part, undiscovered. She had held her suspicions but had never given the devil the reigns. She let it play its course and chose not to pursue information that would have almost certainly hurt her more.[break][break]

She glances at Fernando at the change in subject, and she smiles briefly. The expression is genuine, if fleeting.[break][break]

"Yes-- I'm happy for her. She deserves to be happy."[break][break]

When she says this, she sucks in a breath and doesn't say anything further. It hangs there, an unspoken admission suggesting that perhaps she, herself, does not.[break][break]

[break]

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FERNANDO SILPH

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POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 18:02:29 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]“If you’re scared you should follow her footsteps.”

Now that she’s taken responsibility for the last round there’s no use in keeping the carton. Like everything else in his life, Fernando crumples it now that is has no use. Reduced to nothing more than a wrinkled ball of paper, he stuffs it back in his pocket for disposal and leaves Stormy to light her own stick. In a sick sense of bonding, their family tradition gets passed down once more.

“Find someone who will cherish you, someone that will love you for who you are. When you find someone like that, hang up your coat and forget about all this. Go retire and live a long, fulfilling life. You’ll end up better for it.”

It takes all night but eventually the cold does him in. Fernando breaks the stone facade and flexes his frozen fingers. He can feel the ache settle in and he cups them into fist, raising them to his mouth and exhaling heat from within. He repeats the blowing several times before shaking off the rest of the chill.

“There’s no chance at anything like that in this line of work. You’ll just end up like me or Stone, for better or worse.”

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POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 18:31:55 GMT

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She rolls the last cigarette between her fingers, as if deciding whether or not to light it. She does, ultimately, because she's obligated to after taking it.[break][break]

There is a moment of silence as she pulls the smoke into her lungs, as she considers his words. She holds onto it, holds onto the pain in her lungs as it recreates the pain in her chest. [break][break]

"I'm too fucked up and self-important to let myself do that."[break][break]

Stormy says this in between exhaling. She coughs, shaking her head, taps the cig.[break][break]

"I wasn't raised to hang up my coat. I didn't want the coat at all, at first, but I have it now and it's too important to set aside."[break][break]

Her attention shifts to Fernando's hands raised to his mouth. She considers lending him her aid, and instead chooses to pass him the rest of her cigarette.[break][break]

"Are you unhappy?"[break][break]

[break]

notes: ...

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FERNANDO SILPH

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silph

SIR

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TAG WITH @silph

POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 19:01:37 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]“Then you have nothing to fear. Loss will come and you will accept it because you have no choice. People, Pokemon, even Moltres, maybe.”

He accepts her last light graciously. It rests against the butt of his thumb and his index finger holds it steady between his lips. One more puff before he spills too much. He knows he shouldn’t but she’s caught him at a bad time. There’s a reason he handles these nights alone.

“I had my chance.” He hesitates, tiptoeing on the memory. Another puff pushes him to the edge and he reveals a tidbit he’s yet to accept himself. “I had my chance— two actually. The first time, fate intervened and I lost someone precious to me.”

Elysia.

“I got lucky though. Whether it be divine will or something I paved with my own two hands, I had a ticket out. This time, I abandoned her to do what had to be done. All in the name of duty.”

persephone amavi.

Guilt beats life into his idle heart. It throbs with pain but he ignores it. Ignores it like he did her all those years ago. Like he does now.

There’s still some life between his lips but Fernando ends it shortly by spiting out the cig and stomping it with the heel of his boot. He can’t feel it being smothered underneath him but he knows he’s ruined it beyond recognition. Destroying something, no matter how trivial, feels good.

“So no. I’m not unhappy.”

He stares at her for a few seconds before smiling.

“I was born for this.”

He places his hand onto her head and ruffles his fingers through strands of her hair.

“I live for this.”

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stormy, bronwen

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twenty-five

july 25

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TAG WITH @stormy

POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 19:19:03 GMT

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She watches as he takes the last puff, as his expression changes and she finally catches just a slight glimpse of the man beneath the scowl. Maybe it wasn't her who breathed life into his honesty, and she doesn't take any credit for it. She merely waits, and listens, and says nothing while he speaks his mind.[break][break]

It doesn't surprise her to hear that he had been in love, or been in some semblance of love in which he'd lost it. The man was too powerful, too put together, too artificially perfect for that to not be a flaw. But was it a flaw? To have loved and lost it? [break][break]

The cigarette drops and is crushed beneath his heel. Reduced to paste, to be forgotten. She glances up just as he glances down to meet her eyes. He's staring, and she stares back. His words and the way he chooses them make her think. His hand ruffles through her hair and she lets that sink in, too.[break][break]

Was she unhappy? Or was she just taunted by the concept of happiness and what it should be, and how she didn't consider herself to be meeting those standards? If Fernando was not unhappy despite his own position and experiences..[break][break]

"Thank you."[break][break]

[break]

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FERNANDO SILPH

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punki

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silph

SIR

twenty-nine

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POSTED ON Dec 14, 2020 19:51:35 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]And the mood is ruined by her sentimentality.

“Shut up.”

In a smooth motion, Fernando slides his hand down and flicks her forehead with the same motion he uses for his cigarette ash. He leaves her with that piece of advice and turns around to depart. Tonight has been an utter failure in terms of introspection but that doesn’t mean everything’s lost. What he was unable to find for himself he’s helped ignite in another. As long as her flame persists, he’ll be able to build her up again. No matter how hard the world tries to extinguish her.

That’s what family’s for.

The door inside opens and Fernando stands inside, arm stretched to keep it open for the person he left on the roof.

“…”

He doesn’t need to say much more.

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stormy, bronwen

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twenty-five

july 25

saffron city, kanto

heterosexual

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1350 height

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