Left_Eyebag
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Summary
A harsh expulsion of breath and consonants fans across his cheek. It takes him a moment to order the vowels into a word: Branzy. He turns, facing the man who uttered it.
“Branzy,” Clown says again, more insistently. He's not laying down; Clown has never been so presumptuous as to sleep next to Branzy in Rek's bed, not without invitation. Instead, he's kneeling, one leg on the mattress and the other reaching for the floor. His hand hovers a few inches from Branzy's head. Two months is not enough time to erase uncertainty in the nighttime.
“Sorry,” Branzy responds quietly. His voice is hoarse. “Was I shouting again?”
Series
- Part 4 of charms & 'chants
Bookmarked by Left_Eyebag
19 Aug 2025