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↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-
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𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
𝟔:𝟓𝟐 𝐀𝐌
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The rubber soles of Arthur's trainers pounded a rhythm on the cool, dew-kissed cobblestones, the insistent cadence harmonising with the bass pulsating from his earpieces as he jogged to its fast-paced tempo through the mist-laden, salty atmosphere.
Beads of sweat dripped off his body in rivulets, leaving behind a damp, ephemeral trail that felt chilly as the prancing gale collided against his searing skin.
Arthur pursued the winding seaside path tracing Cap-d'Ail's sinuous coastline while the city slumbered in peaceful oblivion behind him. The nascent light of dawn had only begun its timid ascent above the horizon, colouring the sky an inky palette adorned by wispy clouds, and with each stride, he invited the crisp October air to infiltrate his lungs, begging for its freshness to slacken the tightness gripping his chest.
His head had become an impenetrable labyrinth of emotions since his recent breakup.
It wasn't even a dramatic or acrimonious split; on the contrary, they had parted ways with a mutual agreement to remain on amicable terms. But there was still a multitude of enigmas that his infatuated mind couldn't grasp—or perhaps stubbornly refused to acknowledge.
He found himself incapable of accepting the brutal reality that they were truly over, for the sole concept was something far beyond his grasp.
That plethora of issues he had so cavalierly brushed aside, viewing them as mere pebbles strewn along the journey of their love had turned out to be so much more. They were boulders, monstrous and colossal, crashing down upon their path with such devastating force that the road they once travelled together was reduced to an unrecognisable and utterly impassable ruin.
He hadn't quite foreseen their seismic disruptions where the cumulative impact would shatter the very foundation of their bond. All he knew was that all of a sudden, he was left stranded in the ravaged landscape of what once was.
Perhaps a friendship was the only salvageable piece of their crumbled relationship.
And he was going to have to make do with it.
Arthur decelerated his pace to a torturous, limping walk. His breath was a laboured pant squeezed through the narrow passage of his constricted chest as a sharp, unrelenting stitch jabbed mercilessly just beneath his ribs. His hand clutched his side, fingers digging into the flesh as though he might physically extract the pain, all while invoking silent prayers for its swift departure.
