Re: log; misha and adrian
Misha, he watched as the space became a living room. He reckoned, and it was just a hunch, this was a place from Adrian's childhood. He allowed himself to think, and real brief, 'bout what place he'd conjure if he needed soothing. But, this wasn't 'bout him any, and Misha felt plenty distant at present. It was something that came with the glowing and the wings, that distance, and Misha disliked it plenty. It felt like he was removed from the world by layers and layers of a whole lot of nothing, and Misha tended to be real immediate; he liked feeling. Heaven, it had been like this for the boy, and he hated the memory.
The wings shimmered out of existence, not needed just now; it was calm here. And, while the boy still glowed, it was a softer, warm-light glow now, and not nothing so holy and ethereal as moments earlier.
He crossed the room on feet that once again touched the floor, wooden how it was now, and he joined Adrian on the windowseat.
He hugged his knees up to his chest, did Misha, and he looked at the dark-haired boy. He was right there, was Misha, but it was still like being miles away. Sure, he could feel Adrian's emotions better now than normal, but that didn't do a thing to make the boy feel closer. "Where are we?" he asked, but he glanced out over the room and spoke again. "You ain't got to say yet. Give yourself time to calm," he added. "We ain't got no hurries here, you and me." And, just in case Adrian felt like talking 'bout it. "You can talk 'bout the men in the bed, too." Men, though he wasn't actually real sure how old either of the folks in the bed had been. One of them was real clear, and the other hadn't been clear any at all, but things conjured up, they were created and not true, so could be they were significantly different than how Adrian had imagined.
"This place, it's quiet and warm," he said. "It's real nice."