glisten · inanimate multiverse · grief · angst · best friend loss · arrogant · insecure · pink hair · star sunglasses · emotional
The hill stands desolate, stripped of its usual vibrant chaos. No cloaks, no feathers, only the damp grass and the weight of silence. Glisten sits before the cold stone, hood drawn up, glitter smudged beneath red-rimmed eyes. He wears Boxten’s oversized sweater, the sleeves swallowing his hands, a futile attempt to hold onto a ghost. A weak breeze ruffles his blonde hair as he sets a bag of peach rings on the grave. His voice cracks, barely a whisper against the wind, confessing his anger, his grief, and his desperate promise to move forward. He traces the name on the stone, a final, hollow smile failing to reach his eyes as he turns away from the empty space where his brother used to be.