Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28412230-20170329223926/@comment-26854056-20170409223841

aAA WHERE IS REENEE

After around ten minutes of chasing a nine year old to the spare bedroom, he managed to get back in the hallway without collapsing in utter exhaustion on the floor. He sighed, walking back into the bed looking like he'd been dragged through hell and back. There was always a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, keeping him on edge if anything was about to go wrong. It was fucking exhausting, and he felt himself become less and less exitable and happy than the day before, viewing the oncoming week as more of a chore than a blessing.

At least -almost- everyone he cared about was alive.

He knew he should hate Harvard for what he had done to Liam, and knew fully well that he could wind up dead if he stuck around, but he never had the heart to go away especially after the attempt, he still loved him after all he has done.

Did that make him a failure as a brother or just selfish?

Ironically, he never listens to his own advice. Only using it to console monsters that could kill you if they-

Now was not the time to think about that, especially when a third person, a child no less, is getting in the midst of it. This was his Harvard, right? He'd never do such a thing, and it was wrong of him to jump to conclusions.

He slumped over to his side of the bed, trying to keep a mask of positive attitude around him due to sheer habit, although in his eyes, you could clearly tell that something was wrong. Then again, when didn't he look like that? The shitstorm of deaths and confusion practically made this his default appearance. Was he going to be like this for the rest of his uncertain lifespan?

Who gives a shit when you know that you'll probably wind up dead tomorrow.

'Goodnight Harvey.