Date: 2015-05-05 07:01 pm (UTC)
twocomplex: (sometimes aim hates lowercase As)
From: [personal profile] twocomplex
[It was already the ninth, and still no word from Mattias. An uncomfortably sick feeling has been twisting and growing in his stomach since their argument, and the time from his drunken calls to now has only made it worse. Mattias has vanished, completely. No answer, no sign of him in any of the casinos or bars he'd happened to wander past. Not in the shops, on the streets, not in his room where he should be.

The hotels he'd visited gave no luck. He was looking in all the wrong places, and he felt more sickened by it every day. He blamed Mattias for this. For whatever was eating at him. The dropping sensation of his stomach, the tense, constant nausea, the flares of anger, the bouts of sadness. It was all Mattias' fault.

But he hears his voice, and the composure that he clings to is a shell of what it usually is. Surprise is written across his face, and the anger that fills his eyes isn't the same as usual.

It reflects the deep concern that's been slowly building in him.

All at once, that sick feeling is ten times stronger, and he's torn between turning him away or hitting him or-- or something a little too fond, he thinks. His eyes dart, searching his face for an answer as he takes just one step closer.]


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Nocta Oren

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