I miss you like a little kid

We'll keep going (till the effort is showing)

Floyd felt like dying.

It was the after effect , Clay had told him, nose in a book with those silly little eyeglasses on.

You wanted to die for so long that you've forgotten how to live.

Darling Clay, forever blunt.

His room was pretty.

Of course, all the rooms in the bunker were gorgeous; Branch really did his best.

But Floyd liked his room differently to how he likes the others.

The window was a big massive thing behind his bed.

Well it used to be a window, but Branch had painted over it.

Floyd wasn't saying that he didn't like it. In fact, he loved it!

The window was full of pastels, like stained glass.And it illuminated the room in soft washed up colours.

There were little potted plants everywhere of all different types of flowers. All of Floyd's favourite flowers.

His bed was a soft little thing, that held him perfect.

But his favourite thing?

There were glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.

Tiny gorgeous things that made Floyd smile.

Especially when he remembers Branch's small embarrassed grin, when he showed it to him.

You told me the worst part about being captured by Velvet and Veneer was the fact that you couldn't see the stars, Branch's voice was quiet when he brought Floyd to his room and gestured to the ceiling.

I won't let that happen ever again, Floyd. I promise.

Queen Poppy was simply a marvel.

And the best thing that has to have ever happened to Branch, Floyd reckoned.

He loved seeing his little brother's face when they were together, his small lovestruck smile, the heart eyes.

It was endearing.

He had hoped that Branch had her the whole time they were away.

Childish hopes.

He had never truly grown up.

His brothers were laughing at him.

Laughing at his uselessness, his betrayal, his helplessness.

Poor Floyd and his dead leg.

He was pathetic. Forgotten. Unwanted.

He couldn't save himself, couldn't protect himself.

Pitiable. Feeble. Wretched and poor.

Who was he? To expect his brother's help after he abandoned them?

Who was he? To be a big brother to the boy who saved him?

Last time he checked, Floyd was the older one.

Why did Branch seem so mature?

John was sweet, in his own way.

He was sweet in the way he made overly bittery coffee for him in the mornings.

Sweet in the way he would tell them stories of when they were kids.