#dour til the day she dies methinks

[bludhound-a]

he’s  in  her  periphery  as  she  eats.  holds  a  stare:  his  under-eyes  dark  from  lack  of  sleep.  her  own heart  remains  steady,  at  night;   her  eyes  lazily  blink  the  nightmares  away,  in  the  morning.  rewind,  play;  rewind,   play.  she  watches  them,  night  by  night,  with  the  bare  interest  of  a  fly  leering  at  a  deathbed.  ‘   you  could  just  sleep  more.  you  don’t  have  anything  better  to  do  with  your  time,  do  you?  ’

location: food hall

⸻⸻ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙨 been up for hours now, but that doesn't matter much to nicholas when he's barely slept. he's learned to keep the nightmares at bay over the years, but some night they manage to slip through the cracks and get him when he least expects it. he finishes the last of his barely decent breakfast and stifles a yawn. ‘ what i'd give for a good cup of coffee right now, ’ he muses, ‘ and i mean a good one, espresso shots and all. ’