he has long forgotten what that felt like.

❝ ... ❞ he is speechless for a moment. silence always had been more defeaning than any sound. ❝ very well. ❞ the sting was like a scorching hot knife through searing flesh. he turns and leaves without another word. but where to? is there anyone out there who would care enough for him? no...
⬇

❝ don't you ever grab me by the throat. i am not your enemy. nor do i want to be. ❞

he rubs his neck, a gesture he's done repeatedly in the past. ❝ had i known you well, i wouldn't have made the joke, Feyran. if i knew it would strike something buried in you, i wouldn't. for that, i am sorry. but—❞ his teeth clenches tightly, blinking his eyes, attempting to fight the tears.
⬇

❝ and you are not in charge of me. i am not a threat to you, Feyran. it was a joke of poor taste judging by your tantrum. unhand me or i won't be apologizing. ❞

❝ you will unhand me and then i will apologize. ❞

❝ —ack! ❞ his hands grip around Feyran's, digging his nails deep into the skin. ❝ release me, you madman. i was obviously jesting. ❞

hey look that's the definition of you!

« well... these shorts leave little to the imagination. i have a similar pair myself. convenient, comfy and flattering. »

realisation struck as his word was misinterpreted. he gasped

« that's not—it wasn't—oh dear... forgive my insolence. i was pointing at your behind... not your social status. quite clearly, you're not a bum! »

2) ishgard.

bum.

naturally. i prefer to close my eyes when the world is burning. less scary.

{ *licks his finger and puts his hand up* }

it is pretty windy huh?