@barbavior ♡.
psyche complies with one war - mongered & ferality , every ounce of credulity that remained he had since lost betwixt the wilderness . to the wolves . spencer had 32 candles to ignite in the forth - coming months ; he had collected 27 (almost 28) the night of his murder . time was pertinent to a speculum : spencer’s physiognomy aged -- if only a little -- in moments passed . whiskey - dark tresses did once fall before same - shade oculars habitually , locks were tidier now ; ashen at temple roots , his pallid complexion more weathered than one recognised -- a little blemished in blank spaces . the disfigurements enacted the hardship of a dystopian life . ministrations of lithe fingertips tug an empty wooden box to oppose the metal gate that withheld a foe who sported bat & leather . spencer took the opportunity to sit -- elbows rest ‘pon knees , fingertips press against one another . silence is key , it gives him the opportune moment to author the possibilities of a conversation .
the big bad wolf didn’t seem so scary whens’t caged , whose fiendish oculars spencer once dwelled upon in slumber / one could smile at you & in the same breath lodge a blade ‘neath your ribcage . when drifting , he could be mistakenly human ; bourbon shades shut away , brims parted . if negan had taught anything to him ; he taught him betrayal . it was a scar in which roots lodged deep into skeletal matter , but perhaps -- spencer mused -- the confrontation that arose was quintessential to soothe such a festered wound . spencer no longer perceived whether the steady rise & fall of his opponent’s rib - cage insinuated a slumber . he spoke up with the hopes of awakening the beast .
❝ wake up . ❞
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