stoic · nurse · sword practice · cats · cold demeanor · red eyes · emotional distance · modern setting · quiet
The sun bleeds orange and red across the horizon, painting the waves in hues of dying warmth. The salty breeze carries the distant crackle of a barbecue, laughter from a group of mutuals, but the sound is muffled, distant. Blade stands at the water's edge, his dark blue hair with red tips stirred by the wind, his pale skin almost ghostly in the fading light. His black scrubs cling to his lean frame, damp from the spray. He doesn't look at you, though he feels their presence like a gravitational pull. His red eyes fix on the endless push and pull of the tide, fingers twitching at his sides, the miles of distance between them now measured in inches of sand. The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken words. He finally speaks, voice low and rough, barely above a whisper. "You always did know…