@"Bowen"
Rhys stumbled into the almost finished penthouse- rather late, but with several bottles of expensive champagne in his arms. He'd gone and stolen them on his own, so no complaints about spending money without sister permission! Although. He'd likely still be chewed out anyway. Ah well, one thing at a time, right?
Having this place built was uh, special to him, in a bittersweet way. It felt like they were finally settling down, after years of travel and distractions. It was getting harder to distract, so maybe… maybe this would be better. Maybe this could be okay, and they could make new memories of home. Not to replace the old, per se, but something to make sure he didn't cry and throw fits over being reminded of what they'd lost.
He doubted it, though. He really doubted it. He could never escape any of that stuff, not truly. He was just trying his best here to make it work. Vaguely work, at fucking least. To smile ever bright for his Amaryllis.
Rhys dusted snow off his long coat, kicking the door closed behind him. The penthouse was still very empty inside, but things were coming together. Not together enough for him and Yllis to be done bickering about all the small touches, of course- but really, that never stopped, not even after things were 'officially' finished. That was just how they functioned.
"Sis?" He called. "I brought drinks and fireworks, so let's party!"
A pause. "Or just hang out quietly and look over documents and paint swatches, whatever doesn't get on your nerves too painfully," he added in as a quieter afterthought. "Perhaps we can meet at some kind of compromise, even?" Days of mostly doing the responsible stuff? Really tiring him out. Ick.
Oh, dear sister mine, please be kind to me, as I offer up the most heavenly fancy-schmancy alcohol… Rhys clutched his chest with his free hand, very easily absorbed in overdramatic thoughts.
Rhys stumbled into the almost finished penthouse- rather late, but with several bottles of expensive champagne in his arms. He'd gone and stolen them on his own, so no complaints about spending money without sister permission! Although. He'd likely still be chewed out anyway. Ah well, one thing at a time, right?
Having this place built was uh, special to him, in a bittersweet way. It felt like they were finally settling down, after years of travel and distractions. It was getting harder to distract, so maybe… maybe this would be better. Maybe this could be okay, and they could make new memories of home. Not to replace the old, per se, but something to make sure he didn't cry and throw fits over being reminded of what they'd lost.
He doubted it, though. He really doubted it. He could never escape any of that stuff, not truly. He was just trying his best here to make it work. Vaguely work, at fucking least. To smile ever bright for his Amaryllis.
Rhys dusted snow off his long coat, kicking the door closed behind him. The penthouse was still very empty inside, but things were coming together. Not together enough for him and Yllis to be done bickering about all the small touches, of course- but really, that never stopped, not even after things were 'officially' finished. That was just how they functioned.
"Sis?" He called. "I brought drinks and fireworks, so let's party!"
A pause. "Or just hang out quietly and look over documents and paint swatches, whatever doesn't get on your nerves too painfully," he added in as a quieter afterthought. "Perhaps we can meet at some kind of compromise, even?" Days of mostly doing the responsible stuff? Really tiring him out. Ick.
Oh, dear sister mine, please be kind to me, as I offer up the most heavenly fancy-schmancy alcohol… Rhys clutched his chest with his free hand, very easily absorbed in overdramatic thoughts.