Re: log: Dietre & Liam
As he turned, Dietre wore the expression of a patient about to receive an injection, that same look of apprehension, waiting for the sting of a needle. He might have joined Pippin’s ‘ghost hunting’ team, but he did so hate seeing spirits. There was some slight relief that the transparent shape behind him was indeed a man and not something strange and horrible and dangerous, but it did not last.
It had been so long since Dietre had last seen him that Liam’s features had waxed dim in his memory. What he saw in his mind’s eye when he thought of the man was not quite reality, it was an idealized image, altered by his feelings. Still, it only took a heartbeat to recognize the writer even in the state he was in. “Liam…?” Confusion immediately followed by a rush of horrible, devastating realization.
“Liam!?” Dietre jumped to his feet, then fell back against the piano, one hand hitting the keys making the instrument clang in protest, the other slapping over his mouth in shock. It was Liam. Dead. Liam was dead.
“Gott…” He wanted to ask what happened, but what came from behind his hand in a whispered voice thick with despair was, “Oh, Liam… What did you do…?”