[for the next few days, and for want of a Walgreens, Damien has holed up at Heavenly Blanc with tea in lieu of his usual coffee, sometimes spiked, sometimes not, and soup, though none of it seems to be working. if anything, he looks worse, now, than he did that first day. if anything, he feels worse, for all that he's coughing steadily, now. he should probably be at home, resting -- or at least not potentially getting anyone else sick, assuming he's contagious -- but well. he's getting there. he'll work up the motivation, one of these days]
[so, maybe you catch him while he's still sitting there, all but oozing into the table. or maybe you catch him later, when, after a particularly violent string of coughs, he comes up with a handful of petals. he stares at them for a long moment, beautiful, bloodied things that they are, and then, of no one in particular, asks:] ... what?
heavenly blanc
[so, maybe you catch him while he's still sitting there, all but oozing into the table. or maybe you catch him later, when, after a particularly violent string of coughs, he comes up with a handful of petals. he stares at them for a long moment, beautiful, bloodied things that they are, and then, of no one in particular, asks:] ... what?