2nd ARC | 36 PT 1 | Missing You

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───── · • ❝ ••𝕊𝕊𝕂•• ❞ • · ─────

Crickets crooked, a haunting whir of the evening breeze passing by whilst the moon shone ghost white, yet it was full. So dull, it wasn't as pristine.

Midnight... Thunder dreaded the thought.

Fucking little...

His bed creaks, body tossing and turning on the sheets but not one of the sleeping positions he's come up with could lull him into dream land.

The rain was quietly beating against his window, moon rays shining through the moistened glass from the cloudy night sky; he was angry.

Angry...? No, just a tad bit irritated.

He couldn't sleep. Like it couldn't be more obvious.

Thunder sighed, grumbling curses under his breath.

He pulled his duvet over his head, peeled it off of his body the next second, and spent half of the last hour scheming for ways to make himself drowsy.

It was already a quarter to two, but he laid there defeated by his own troublesome thoughts; empty ruby orbs glaring into the darkness like a corpse.

With a dolent sigh, he gets up, seating himself on the cold tiles of his room next to his bed, fingers fumbling with the covers of the mattress to reveal a hidden compartment under the furniture... A grunt leaving the male as he takes one of the bottles, popping it open and taking a heavy gulp of the malty liquid.

He shuts his eyes, brows furrowing as his throat slightly burned. Coughing, he glares; crimson orbs trained on the secret stash of Tecate Titanium.

Where he even got 'em, you don't wanna know.

"Ugh." He chuckles, greatly disturbed and... Chagrined with himself - he hated it.

There goes another broken promise he made to himself... Downed in another bottle of beer he's been keeping for the last year.

A single bottle should help him fall asleep, that's what he thought... But thinking of it, he got the stash for a whole different reason back in the day.

The skies drummed, procellous they were; illuminating his room with a flash of lightning but Thunder himself was hardly bothered.

He takes another sip, eyeing his phone as if to expect a message or some shit...

But no, he didn't have the confidence to call or text you. Not yet, that is.

Hali sighed once more, half-lidded orbs dazed from the subtle citrus aroma he's snuffed from the bottle.

He told himself to get rid of the beer some months ago.

But he ended up needing one tonight and he was infuriated for almost thanking himself for keeping it nonetheless.

"Stupid idiot..." he mumbled, hurt and torn from schizophrenia.

He gets on his feet, reaching for his phone to check the time... 3: 23am.

Oh what zenosyne, time was cursed, jogging off too quickly, ain't it? Well, no matter...

He tosses the phone onto the sheets, picking up the bottle again... Staring at it for a good second before gulping down the rest of its contents in one chug.

Yeah, bad idea...

"Shit..." His head spun, almost dropping the now empty bottle from his cold fingers. He winces, wobbling and he falls over, dropping dead on the blackness of his bedsheets.

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