War of Hearts

(38) A Wistful Show

When you want to animate but can't so you just try your best to write it into words... Maybe you guys would want to listen to the song first too.

Also, this is a dive inside the pig's mind.

~

His castle had never been this spacious before. Reminding him of how empty it was, barely any life living in it at all. It reminds Techno too much of his old self before he started getting the icky butterflies to prance around his stomach.

Devoid of colour and spark, that was what his so-called home looked like at the moment. Staring at his reflection, David took note of dark circles that are slowly becoming visible right below his eyes. Combing his pink hair back with his fingers, he let his other hand fix his coat's placement as well as straighten a few ruffles of his cravat.

That is right, he had finally retrieved his old cravat from the deepest, darkest depths of his closet. Technoblade decided to look for it as soon as he got back from the dream team's cabin, a momentary way to distract himself from the loud creaking of his conscience that's hitting at the back of his skull.

The cravat looked rather nice, a bit smaller now than before, yet it still manages to make him look decent and rather fancy. Sophisticated if you will. 

He glanced around, spotting his luggage already settled at the corner of his room. David broke out a loud sigh, still feeling down in the drains from the uh, previous events that had occurred. Why did he still insist on wearing the cravat if Darryl won't even look at him? 

Entering his grand living room of a place, the pink head dropped his bag off near the front door and took note of his palace's remote ambience. Maybe the adventure would give him at least a tiny bit of solace... 

David felt his lips tug down in a frown as he approached the grand piano he owns for personal reasons. There he goes again, evolution going backwards. Just like the old times, he was going to be distracting himself with a bunch of adrenaline-pumping adventures so he won't face the bone-crushing truth of his isolation. He doesn't wanna go back when finally, finally he gets to feel something again.

Propping himself down on the seat, he opened the case to reveal the perfect set of keys of his piano. Letting a finger press one, the single beat was enough to give his soul the nostalgia of when his mother played the piano to give him comfort. 

With the tension disappearing off his shoulders, he raised his other hand and thought back to a song his head had suggested to him. A bit cliche considering how it fits his situation as well as his feelings coming into play. Techno hummed, letting his fingers dance in their own familiarity on top of the keys, the soothing melody coming up to reach his ears as well as to fill the whole room.

"Much as you blame yourself, you can't be blamed for the way that you feel..." He started with his deep voice a little bit rusty before it slowly transitioned on to something gentle. "Had no example of a love that was even remotely real," Techno tilted his head, trying to press on the message. A deep frown plays on his lips as the next lines come out of them.

"How can you understand something that you never had?" His eyes squinted, brows furrowing at the question he so badly wanted to ask the brunette, "if you let me, I can help you out with all of that..." With eyelids fluttering shut, he breathed out to ease his broken heart.