forum Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Started December 04, 2018 by @KalamariCakes

tune

“You’re— you’re welcome.” He swallowed, rubbing at the nape of his neck. “It was.. a pleasure.”

He stood up, holding the bird. "What would you like for Christmas?"

George was appalled at the first answer that sprung to mind— one that he’d never voice, not in a hundred years. “You don’t need to give me anything.”

"Then what can I do?"

George gave a small shrug. “Whatever you want.”

He shifted his jaw again. "I'll be.. In my room, then. I'll be out for lunch." Lord, why was George so vague? Why couldn't he just… Say what was bothering him?

He nodded evenly. “Alright. Uh. Yeah.”

He hid away in his room. Feeling almost angry. Bailey sat himself on his bed for an intense thinking session– any less and it would continue to pester him.

George slumped into his armchair, a single tear making its way down his cheek.

Skip?)

To when?)

Cruz n april?)

Aww no more George/Bailey?)

We can come back to them, unless you got an idea?)

Not really I guess
Alright, some Cruz and April?)

Sure! )

Cruz was starting to spend more time conscious– even so, though, April could see a crippling melancholy sweeping away the soul of the man she knew. The most exercise the man had done for almost a week was either sitting up or rolling over.

Now, she sat by his bedside, as she had for the past week, holding a glass of water to his lips.

Cruz lifted his hand to find and touch the glass, looking for something familiar in a world of absolute darkness.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him softly, tipping the glass back slowly so that a bead of water trickled into his mouth.

He swallowed, then pushed it down so he could speak. It took him a minute to muster the motivation. "…I…" Well, how could he say? The rage, betrayal, the burning need for relief? The physical pain? The absolute sorrow, desperation, and crushing realization that he was entirely helpless?
How could he say that?

"You…?" April prompted gently, brushing her thumb over his knuckles.

"I feel empty," he whispered back in the same tone of hollow defeat. So muchhe wanted to say, and so little energy for it.

She turned his face towards hers, leaned in to kiss him tenderly. "I'm sorry."

He inhaled slowly. "April.. "

“Yes?” She lifted his hand to her lips.

"…" He drew another breath. "I know where this is going to go," he murmured. "You'll grow tired of taking care of me, leave me out on the streets and I'll die," he continued in the flat, lifeless voice. "Or I'll die from some stupid accident. I'm utterly.. Useless, now.."

Tears threatened to overflow from April’s eyes, which were squeezed shut. She inhaled shakily. “Do you really think so little of me, that I would leave you on your own?”

His nose started to run down his lip in watery drips, his tears. "Everyone gets tired eventually," he whispered so painfully.

April carefully wiped it all away with a handkerchief, shaking her head before she realized that he couldn’t see the action. “Not me.”

"You say that now," he forced the words from his choking throat. "Oh, God," Cruz was starting to work himself into a panic, mind reverting back to feeling himself bleed out into the snow, alone, so alone.