"Will that be all for you, sir?" The cashier turned to Argos, her gaze rather tired and fatigued as she began to bag the several energy drinks he had bought.
Argos nodded, ruffling his hair as he grabbed the bag. He glanced up at the african-american woman, before slugging the bag over his shoulder and beginning to walk out. "Thank you, ma'am."
Surprisingly, though, Argos found himself relating to the young woman. Her wearied expression put Argos in a position where he could feel the boulders weighing down his back. It expressed, an abstract of his wings being bound – Chains pulled tight against withered feathers.
The incident the week before had left him with nothing but an unbearable loneliness – A hole in his chest, torn at the edges as silverfish gnawed away at the flesh around his heart until it was nothing but the inner workings of himself.
Argos hadn't gotten any messages from Mr. Plant subsequent to the incident – He could go find out for himself, but he didn't have nearly enough courage to do so.
How could I have ruined this? Argos thought to himself, wiping his forehead as he trudged through the cold wind, What we had was just about perfect. And as always, He stopped in his tracks, sitting down on a flimsy bench beside the road. I ruined it.
Argos looked up at the scattered clouds in the night sky. The welkin was plastered with a humid hue of tranquil midnight shades. He felt a glimpse of something that felt like calamity – But rather, sad? Maybe it was loneliness.
Or maybe... An emptiness?
All of a sudden, though – the odd feeling was reduced to a flat panic as he heard the rustle of clothing beside him. Someone had sat down next to Argos – But he wouldn't bother to look. He knew he would only be disappointed.
Argos found an odd comfort in the stranger, however. He felt as if he had been alone for an eternity – And someone, one person in a world of millions – Used an amount that could have been an ounce to an entire half of their energy and time, just to sit next to someone who appeared to be in pensive thought.
Despite all of this raging comfort, Argos got up as a metro train approached the benches. He didn't know where it went, or how long it would be driving for, but he didn't have anywhere to be anyway.
But, as Argos was slugging his bag over his right shoulder, he felt the warmth of a hand grab his arm. The figure of the hand was familiar – A bittersweet sculpting to contrast against his flesh at will.
Argos paused to think. He was far too exhausted to panic – And so he turned around.
"Hello?" Argos spoke in an exhausted tone, taking out a headphone and turning to the said stranger. He took off his hood, his fluffy hair popping out when he realised who it was.
"Mr. Plant?"
