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lol so it's been two weeks
can we get this chapter to 3k comments and 600 votes before the next chapter? bc if so that would be kinda swag im ngl
i won't be able to update again very soon, but this is me taking a break from studying for my ap calc exam coming up lol. after it's over, i'll be able to update a little more, tho i'll be taking another break for finals most likely.
happy 100 chapters!!! how many chapters along was core when YOU first found it?
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My father stares at me, and this time, I'm as silent as he is.
I feel tired. Usually, sensation is a little different when I'm here. A little more muted, constantly reminding me that I'm not really sitting in a booth in the bakery. But this time, I'm tired. Like I've had weights attached to me, making it impossible to move.
I don't remember taking the Sleeping Draught. I don't remember spilling three drops from that old brown bottle, don't remember falling into my bed, don't remember making the decision to come here. I do remember blinding pain and blinding light, and the next thing I look, I've blinked and am sitting in front of my father. Who looks the same. Is the same. Silent, mostly unmoving, dressed in black and gold.
He isn't warm anymore. Isn't so familiar. Isn't so him.
And for the first time in all the weeks I've been visiting him, I wonder faintly if it even is him. If this silent entity is truly my father, or if I've just been visiting some semblance of him.
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I wake up feeling so unnaturally warm.
Or, perhaps, it is naturally; it just doesn't feel natural because I haven't truly felt it in so long.
Without opening my eyes, I can feel arms wrapped tightly around me, pinning my own to my sides, though one of my hands holds the other person's. I can feel their chin tucked over the top of my head, and their legs are curled slightly. There are at least three blankets over me, and from the way my skin feels, I don't think I showered after the rain. My clothes are dry, however.
Unsure if I'm even capable of moving, I test my toes. It takes a moment, but I manage to move them. Carefully, I stretch my legs out. I can feel the distant thump of a headache, and my muscles are all sore. Why, I don't know. My throat hurts too, as if I screamed every last ounce of my existence right out of me.
Surprisingly, the arms around me allow me to pull away. I take my time getting up, my body feeling like it's made of lead. It's dark in the room when I manage to peel my eyes open, but I recognize it as my own. I wait a few minutes before moving to my feet and turning around.
