‍ ‎ ‎‎ ‍ h͟a͟z͟e͟l͟l͟e͟

sing the song. not just any song, but of the fire, what it destroyed, and the people who came together and rebuilt themselves and their home. sing the song of hope.

ᱸ⁎ ⁺˳ 🐇 ˚◞ so 𝒾 turned to the 𝔤arden 𝑜𝒻 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴, that so many sw𝑒𝑒𝓉 f𝓁owers b͏o͏r͏e͏⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍

that would be very nice. he appreciates her and her efforts— especially handling him and his melancholic stories. he doesn’t really share them.

As long as you can find 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, you'll never 𝘀͟𝘁͟𝗮͟𝗿͟𝘃͟𝗲.

everybody he has ever loved is either dead or doesn’t want to speak to him. solitude is the fate that was bestowed upon him. it’s the only way that guarantees no one else is getting endangered.

/ give me sotr connections and development 4 bae. i’m only on chapter 8 but … many thoughts. little hazeeeelllllle

sometimes he believes he’s better off alone. the world they live in is a horrible place and he doesn’t 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 want to ruin anything.

she probably doesn’t want to see him anymore. neither does burdock. he said some 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 mean things to them in his wasted state and he regrets it— fuck, he hates himself for it, but he’s scared they’re gonna get hurt. pushing them away seems like the best option.

unfortunately, he does. yes. he’s tried stopping, leaving it be— but the past 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 finds a way to make him bleed. it helps him sleep at night, ease some of the woes.

she’s already doing enough by helping him with his house and all the things he neglects in his drunkenness. after all, he’s the one who should ask her if there’s anything he can do for her ?

fuck. he’s sorry. he forgot not everybody has to through to these stupid things. a party, an event of 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 effie had called it— ugh. he’d rather stay home and get so wasted that he can’t walk.

FROM HERE I WILL WATCH AS THE WORLD CATCHES 𝐅͟𝐈͟𝐑͟𝐄.