Re: Quiet Home: Damian & Misha
Misha was usually real alert 'bout his surroundings, but he didn't even notice Damian, not 'til the boy was sitting across from him. Even then, it was a real slow realization. Looking down, he noticed shoes and legs, but it wasn't enough to bring anything specific to mind. It wasn't 'til Damian sat and talked, and then Misha lifted his gaze slow, like there wasn't any hurry in the whole damn world.
"You're real." He said it surprised some, drool dripping slow down his chin and his blue eyes trying to focus on the boy across from him. But the blacks of his eyes twitched in their seas of blue, and there was something different 'bout Misha when he really lacked his Grace. He was gray, which might seem weird, but the boy looked unhealthy. He looked real unhealthy.
"I make things up. You're real?" But maybe that wasn't surprising as it could be. He'd been seeing things he thought were gone, and he reckoned reality was something he'd been mixing with the things in his head some. Course, he'd called Damian, but that fact was long gone, ate up somewhere in his mind deep. It was safe to say everything was a jumble of mess. Nothing fit right, and the only thing Misha was real certain of was his own crazy. "I know I said I was something I ain't. I'm just like you, see?" What Damian was meant to see, that was anyone's guess, seeing as Misha didn't have a thing worth showing.
His gaze snapped upward, unexpected, and the sluggish boy moved quicker than he should be able to. There was still lurching when he stood, and he grabbed for Damian's hand and tugged him, wanting Damian to follow him to the corner. But lurching or not, unsteady on his feet or not, there was a real sure desperation in Misha's voice. His eyes, previously unfocused, were looking past Damian's shoulder fixed. "You come on. It's best if he don't see you. Come on now."