The infirmary had felt like a prison since the moment Ruth woke up the second time. The first, hadn’t been long, but long enough for Megara to explain to him what the fuck had happened.
“You aren't so far gone that you can't make it out of this, but you are going to have to make some dramatic lifestyle changes, Ruth.”
He’d just stared at the ceiling, mind wrestling with the weight of everything laid out before him. Then the days after had bled together in between hazes of bitter medicinal brews, scolding's and nagging, with the skeletal ache of detox overhanging it all. Megara spoke of progress, his strength slowly returning, but all he felt was confinement, each sip of his new daily, and wholly unfun cocktail, leaving a bitter taste that lingered for hours.
Today he’d managed to slip past them, a small victory, a step forward instead of being brought to his knees in defeat. He couldn’t leave, but a measure of anarchy in his vanishing brought a glimmer of amusement to his features. Ruth watched from his perch in the tree, the gardens offering a small semblance of the freedom sought. He’d done this as a child, escaping his father’s fury and vanishing among the branches where fists and voices couldn’t reach. He could breathe here.
He was rolling a cigarette when Kellam came across him. Ruth’s ear twitched at hearing the footsteps linger around the tree’s base. His gaze dropped from teasing the stick of tobacco, meeting Kellam’s, but only offer his father a weary sigh.
No. Everyone had already seen enough of Ruth fucking up. He’d stolen the fucking show at the wedding.
@Kellam Yoesif
“You aren't so far gone that you can't make it out of this, but you are going to have to make some dramatic lifestyle changes, Ruth.”
He’d just stared at the ceiling, mind wrestling with the weight of everything laid out before him. Then the days after had bled together in between hazes of bitter medicinal brews, scolding's and nagging, with the skeletal ache of detox overhanging it all. Megara spoke of progress, his strength slowly returning, but all he felt was confinement, each sip of his new daily, and wholly unfun cocktail, leaving a bitter taste that lingered for hours.
Today he’d managed to slip past them, a small victory, a step forward instead of being brought to his knees in defeat. He couldn’t leave, but a measure of anarchy in his vanishing brought a glimmer of amusement to his features. Ruth watched from his perch in the tree, the gardens offering a small semblance of the freedom sought. He’d done this as a child, escaping his father’s fury and vanishing among the branches where fists and voices couldn’t reach. He could breathe here.
He was rolling a cigarette when Kellam came across him. Ruth’s ear twitched at hearing the footsteps linger around the tree’s base. His gaze dropped from teasing the stick of tobacco, meeting Kellam’s, but only offer his father a weary sigh.
Well this is... oddly familiar...He leaned back against the trunk of the tree.
Megara has already beaten you to the lecture. And is far better at it. There was a whole presentation and everything, but if you're... staying. Get up here. I have no intention of sitting in bed to be gawked at.
No. Everyone had already seen enough of Ruth fucking up. He’d stolen the fucking show at the wedding.
@Kellam Yoesif
11-17-2024, 09:59 AM
