neither reason nor rhyme ✓

t minus 18 days

t minus 18 days / / her eyes are sightless but within them lies his liveliness 

hazel is not accustomed to darkness. behind her eyelids come to life her most vivid nightmares, dressed in black and hues of gray, smiles so cracked and wicked that they wash all of the sun's rays away.

the pitter patter of rain is how she knows that water is falling from the sky. once upon a time, it was her favorite song; but now, the weeping of the clouds has become but a reminder of her family's quietus.

in front of her legs lay an obituary, with names so familiar to her tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste of what's come and gone.

three names, three lives.

three hearts, four graves.

"you're crying," says a voice sweet, words equally as sour. henry's hands shake as he sets down the cup of water he'd promised to bring, and he heaves a sigh before crouching to her level, resisting the urge to wipe fresh tears away.

he knows he shouldn't touch her; not unless she makes it clear she's comfortable.

"i don't like crying in front of strangers." she buries her face into her bare arms, set upon her folded knees. it's funny how something void of functionality can still feel; her eyes have betrayed her. the source of light within them has diminished, but cowardly clouds remain ever so strong.

"I thought I was your friend." a chuckle escapes his lips, and his fingers tighten into a fist. around hazel, only one question ever tugged at his thoughts:

did i say the right thing?

"i hate to break it to you, henry, but i barely know you."

his gaze drifts to the sketchbook beside her bed, which is home to childish scribbles. a jumbled mess of what seems to be branches is centered, and underneath it, a dislocated and fragmented trunk of a tree. 

his lips twitch into a grin. "let's do something about that."