We were thirteen. [ It doesn't help, not really, he had told himself that for decades and it never fully made him feel better but in the end, that's the truth. And maybe he needs to hear it. ] We were just a kid who wanted to prove something.
[ They paid for it and they managed to make it back to their family. They stopped the end of the world. And yet, somehow, that didn't fix everything. It only made it more blatant that they don't know how to function in normal society because nothing, ever, in their lives has been remotely normal. But they have each other, like they always did, and maybe that's enough tonight. Five relaxes marginally when his other self stays close. ]
Spite, mostly. And loads of coffee. [ Five doesn't know how to be idle, he knows how to survive, he doesn't know what simply living is like. It gets suffocating sometimes as if his lungs are still getting filled with the ashes of a burned world. Days like these are bad, the nights are even worse because as the other had said, their mind plays trick and brings up demons instead of a restful sleep. He considers making a joke about getting blackout drunk and passing out but they will only feel more miserable in the morning. Not to mention that the library staff will be pissed off again.
The shoulder brush is not unwelcome which is both surprising and not. He can't exactly tell what prompts him to curl an arm around his other self's and tug him down so they're sitting, back resting against one of the library's columns and leaning into each other, but that's what Five does. Maybe it's self-pity, maybe it's self-love. ]
They're alive, though. They're alive to keep doing stupid things, to go to Disney world, to drink our coffee or to date superheroes. We did that right at least.
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[ They paid for it and they managed to make it back to their family. They stopped the end of the world. And yet, somehow, that didn't fix everything. It only made it more blatant that they don't know how to function in normal society because nothing, ever, in their lives has been remotely normal. But they have each other, like they always did, and maybe that's enough tonight. Five relaxes marginally when his other self stays close. ]
Spite, mostly. And loads of coffee. [ Five doesn't know how to be idle, he knows how to survive, he doesn't know what simply living is like. It gets suffocating sometimes as if his lungs are still getting filled with the ashes of a burned world. Days like these are bad, the nights are even worse because as the other had said, their mind plays trick and brings up demons instead of a restful sleep. He considers making a joke about getting blackout drunk and passing out but they will only feel more miserable in the morning. Not to mention that the library staff will be pissed off again.
The shoulder brush is not unwelcome which is both surprising and not. He can't exactly tell what prompts him to curl an arm around his other self's and tug him down so they're sitting, back resting against one of the library's columns and leaning into each other, but that's what Five does. Maybe it's self-pity, maybe it's self-love. ]
They're alive, though. They're alive to keep doing stupid things, to go to Disney world, to drink our coffee or to date superheroes. We did that right at least.