The dazzling newness of Manta Carlos was starting to wear off. It was a shame for Florentin. He'd thought that having more independence would make him happier, but it didn't. Nothing did. The bright, lovely smile he wore trembled most days, and a dark bile bubbled underneath the surface, right in the pits of his stomach and crawling in his veins. He was sick, not just physically, but right in the head. Not even sleeping in Sasha's arms helped in this. The nightmares raged and raged.
He needed to be sedated or exhausted for slumber. Around eleven, Florentin gave up on any hopes of rest, and went into the bathroom to freshen up. He did his hair so they were as straight as a waterfall, put some powder on to hide his eyebags, and eyeliner to make his eyes pop. Pretty and well-dressed. Nobody would even begin to suspect he was sick.
He put on his nice shoes and traveled into the dark with no aims whatsoever, unsure if the cold air made him better or worse. His long walk had been safe. He was sure the road was filled with monsters, but he was secure that his guardian angel would get anything nasty before he would even see them. It felt like a bad thing, at that moment. Florentin wanted to get his hands on something, kill or be killed.
He needed a drink.
He stepped into a bar Downtown, feet aching. The lighting seemed to help with clearing his head. He tapped his finger's on the wooden counter. "Hello, sir? A strawberry daiquiri, please."
@Claire
He needed to be sedated or exhausted for slumber. Around eleven, Florentin gave up on any hopes of rest, and went into the bathroom to freshen up. He did his hair so they were as straight as a waterfall, put some powder on to hide his eyebags, and eyeliner to make his eyes pop. Pretty and well-dressed. Nobody would even begin to suspect he was sick.
He put on his nice shoes and traveled into the dark with no aims whatsoever, unsure if the cold air made him better or worse. His long walk had been safe. He was sure the road was filled with monsters, but he was secure that his guardian angel would get anything nasty before he would even see them. It felt like a bad thing, at that moment. Florentin wanted to get his hands on something, kill or be killed.
He needed a drink.
He stepped into a bar Downtown, feet aching. The lighting seemed to help with clearing his head. He tapped his finger's on the wooden counter. "Hello, sir? A strawberry daiquiri, please."
@Claire