Kildeer Rest cigarette daydreams

It was not the rushing, thrilling embrace of the past, when he'd first come across Alarian. All of his bad feelings were etched clearly on his face, and he trudged rather than floated toward his brother, mouth set somewhere between a smile and a frown. A grimace, he supposed. All the while, his heart pounded in his chest, drumming hard in his ears.

"Hey," Zamael murmured, when he'd come close enough for Alarian to catch his words. "Sorry I was away for so long. Wasn't intending to--just sort of got caught up in sightseeing."

It was the truth--he had never wanted this to happen. Or perhaps a part of him had, and it was only due to obligation that he returned now. Whatever the case might be, it had happened, and it was his job to remedy it. His brother was in equal parts strong and fragile; capable of handling crises yet, the moment one arose, he fell apart. It was a dichotomy that had fascinated Zamael for seasons.