He'd grown up too fast.
He knew it. His family knew it. Everyone around him knew it. But there were times, when he wished he could've been a child for a bit longer, made it last just a little more time.
Times like now.
His brothers child, asleep on his bed, himself sat in a chair, head on the desk as he slumped forwards, sighing. This was a mess. And of course he was in Regalia for it. He'd arrived only 4 days ago, and already the estate next door is spreading rumors about them. It took self-control to not throw stuff through their windows, but that was bad etiquette, so it was a no. Didn't mean he liked them- especially not that damn Nathaniel. Shoving his fat nose where it doesn't belong. Well, he'd never seen Nathan before, but he liked to think he had a fat nose- it made imagining breaking it much better. His previously neutral face crumpled down into a frown. What to do, how to fix this- how would you fix this? His hands run through his hair, a nervous tick, as he turns his head, to look at the sleeping child behind him. Theodore. The baby was curled into a ball in the centre of his bed, and it was adorable.
And then there was Bryn.
Bryn was a mess, like the situation, and that was clear to see. Especially when the he got stressed. Luc had never seen him yell, he wasn't that kind of person, neither of them were. But they both had- well, he'd been close, until Theo had begun crying. Lucien had never pinned Bryn as an alcaholic, but- well, the look in his eyes made it clear to see that Lucien would have to change that opinion. But Bryn had been through so much, and he was a single dad raising the child of the woman he loved who had died in childbirth. Its safe to say nobody would have been the same after that. He was trying to hold it together, but Lucien could see him falling apart before his eyes, and it hurt to know that when his brother had needed him the most, Lucien had been out of reach, out of contact. That hurt.
He reached for a quill, dipping it in an ink as dark as a crows feathers. Night was falling, but he lit a candle, writing and crossing out and binning, before finding a poem he liked. He pushed it beneath his brothers door, and retreated back into his room, retreated back into his safe zone. The shadows rose, stretching out across the floor as the candle began to flicker out from a gust of air that had blown through the window.
The candle flickered out.
Lucien stood there, a shadow, before moving to the window, shutting it. He picked up the candle, lit it, and slipped out the door- picking up a book as he went- moving into the main room, methodically turning off all the lights. His candle cast shadows on the ground, and he placed it on the table. He sat there, with his book of tactics, searching what he could do, until the sun rose again.
@Nudibronch @Wolf_Cobra @StarkFromAway
This took place last night, and I am aware situations have changed.
He knew it. His family knew it. Everyone around him knew it. But there were times, when he wished he could've been a child for a bit longer, made it last just a little more time.
Times like now.
His brothers child, asleep on his bed, himself sat in a chair, head on the desk as he slumped forwards, sighing. This was a mess. And of course he was in Regalia for it. He'd arrived only 4 days ago, and already the estate next door is spreading rumors about them. It took self-control to not throw stuff through their windows, but that was bad etiquette, so it was a no. Didn't mean he liked them- especially not that damn Nathaniel. Shoving his fat nose where it doesn't belong. Well, he'd never seen Nathan before, but he liked to think he had a fat nose- it made imagining breaking it much better. His previously neutral face crumpled down into a frown. What to do, how to fix this- how would you fix this? His hands run through his hair, a nervous tick, as he turns his head, to look at the sleeping child behind him. Theodore. The baby was curled into a ball in the centre of his bed, and it was adorable.
And then there was Bryn.
Bryn was a mess, like the situation, and that was clear to see. Especially when the he got stressed. Luc had never seen him yell, he wasn't that kind of person, neither of them were. But they both had- well, he'd been close, until Theo had begun crying. Lucien had never pinned Bryn as an alcaholic, but- well, the look in his eyes made it clear to see that Lucien would have to change that opinion. But Bryn had been through so much, and he was a single dad raising the child of the woman he loved who had died in childbirth. Its safe to say nobody would have been the same after that. He was trying to hold it together, but Lucien could see him falling apart before his eyes, and it hurt to know that when his brother had needed him the most, Lucien had been out of reach, out of contact. That hurt.
He reached for a quill, dipping it in an ink as dark as a crows feathers. Night was falling, but he lit a candle, writing and crossing out and binning, before finding a poem he liked. He pushed it beneath his brothers door, and retreated back into his room, retreated back into his safe zone. The shadows rose, stretching out across the floor as the candle began to flicker out from a gust of air that had blown through the window.
The candle flickered out.
Lucien stood there, a shadow, before moving to the window, shutting it. He picked up the candle, lit it, and slipped out the door- picking up a book as he went- moving into the main room, methodically turning off all the lights. His candle cast shadows on the ground, and he placed it on the table. He sat there, with his book of tactics, searching what he could do, until the sun rose again.
@Nudibronch @Wolf_Cobra @StarkFromAway
This took place last night, and I am aware situations have changed.
