The Bracken Woods She

He knew it must’ve hurt for Masque to see him congratulate Redd, but he has no clue how deep the cut went. This is the first time he doesn’t know where their head is at. Perhaps they don’t know either.

The boy turns, orange gaze searching for answers Masquerade’s fleeting glance.

And he sees pain, grief.

Somewhere inside him, there’s a tiny, tiny shred of jealousy. Jealousy that they were older. Jealousy that they had more to mourn. All he had were breadcrumbs of his mother. Still, the sentiment is so small that he can’t fully fathom it. Everything is masked by a general numbness he feels.

Masque.. you can’t cope with this alone.