Learn to love, learn to be loved

Farmer muscles

OK I think I should explain myself

I'm sorry for the absence but depression do be like that sometimes

Sometimes I would write three words for this chapter and leave it for two days and now I finally found the energy to write it all

hope you enjoy it anyway!

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Purple's eyes stung with the amount of smoke in front of him. His arms waved back and forth trying to clear the air but it was all in vain.

The grey mist filled his lungs, making him cough and turn away from it all.

But as soon as he turned his back, it was gone.

In front of the purple figures were two lakes, connected by a bridge made out of a old tree log.

One of the lakes was murky, as if filled with poison, it called for him in a soft, almost whispery tone. The other had a clean water, with what looked like a axe resting by it, it talked in groans and a raspy voice, spitting his name as if he was not worthy of even looking at that direction.

Something about that place felt familiar to Purple, but before he could step any closer, vines grew from the grassy floor, holding him in place.

His throat felt dry suddenly, in a way making him crave the lakes refreshing water. But the murky one was so much closer, so much easier.

He tried another step, but the vines held him firm, pulling him to his knees.

─ Please... ─ He pleaded, but the voice that came from him wasn't his voice.

He recognized that voice.

Vines grew more aggressively, slowly covering his entire body as he pleaded for mercy.

This time Purple woke up suddenly with the ungodly pain that came as a result of rolling off his bed and hitting his forehead square on the floor.

His brain was basically ringing with the impact and the world was a blurry mess for a couple of seconds.

He groaned, rubbing his forehead to ease the pain then his cheek to clean the saliva going down to his neck.

─ For fuck sake...─ He huffed while slowly sitting up on the floor. Eyes still heavy with sleep and legs numb. ─ At least he wasn't in this one...

A yawn escaped his mouth, and slowly he forced himself to get up.

─ Breakfast! ─ Yelled Second Coming from the kitchen, making Purple sigh with exhaustion. Was he ready to face another day?

No he wasn't, but the food smelled good and his stomach was empty.

Without any rush, Purple grabbed a sweater and put it on, not bothering to take the sweaty shirt underneath it and went down the stairs to the kitchen.

The only other stick figure already awake was Second, who was preparing some orange juice while also working the coffee maker.

─ Good morning Purple. ─ He offered him some juice with a smile, Purple wanted to slap that smile out of his face but simply accepted the juice.

─ Thanks. ─ He couldn't be bothered to sound more cheerful so early in the morning. His hand reached a bread from the basket at the table and he occupied himself by munching away.

Second Coming didn't comment on his sour mood, or maybe he didn't noticed a difference from Purple's natural sourness.

Whatever was the reason, the purple figure was glad for no questions.