[I sit inside an air conditioned apartment. :I The complex has a pool and I get in sometimes, but I don’t know how to actually swim. Plus, it really hasn’t been all that hot of a summer in Texas.]
”She doesn’t know how to swim…”
”A—Ah, nothing! Nothing.”
Snicker, “She’s only about 164 centimeters.
Short and tubby.”
”Last time she was weighed, she was 164 pounds.”
The mortician leaned against the inside of the wrought iron fence around the graveyard, a shovel propped beside him. A grin split his features, puckering the visible edge of the scar that marred his face as he munched on a bone shaped biscuit. “Well, now~. You’re out awful late for someone so young~.”
”I… I was…” He could pluck excuses out of the air without problem, usually. The shock of seeing someone that resembled one of his deadliest enemies had visibly shaken the boy, a few beads of sweat falling along his temple and cheek.
A hard swallow, and the boy let out a weak giggle. “I c—couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d take a walk.”
”Your arms will give eventually. She’s heavy.”
”Oi, I’d be careful — she likes to kick.”
» — selfish-dog-gon
Dammit, he really needed to pay attention to where he was doing. “S—Sorry..”
» — choicestlaughter
He felt a deep, dreadful shudder.
His breath hitched.
Gin…? No, this man looked different somehow.