#✟ ｡ — ❛ You’re on your own kid. Always have been.. ❜ ( GHOSTWOOD. )

[crucifixi]

[ GOODBYE ]:     as they’re bidding each other farewell for the foreseeable future, the sender gently touches their forehead against the receivers. --- @apostacizing

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀FOREHAND TOUCH

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ @apostacizing

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀———

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a melancholic glow across the desolate landscape, Nicholas and Wolfwood stood side by side, their hearts heavy with the weight of impending separation. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the silence between them spoke volumes.

They knew this farewell was not like the others. Fate had conspired against them, tearing them apart for an indefinite period. Nicholas, usually composed and stoic, could no longer contain his sorrow. Tears streamed down his face, his small shoulders shaking with the weight of his despair. It was a rare sight.

Wolfwood wished he could shield the boy from the cruel reality that awaited them both. But life had other plans, and they were mere pawns in its merciless game. Nicholas stood with his heart pounding, tears streaming down his face, his small fists clenched at his sides. The Wolfwood, an older mirror of himself, knelt before him, a somber expression etched into his features.

Eyes shimmering with unshed tears, Wolfwood gently pressed his forehead against Nicholas', a silent promise in the action. It was a tender moment, a painful farewell that had to be done.

Nicholas could barely see through his tears, his heart aching with a pain he hadn't felt before. Nicholas clung desperately to the older version of himself, his tiny hands gripping the fabric of Wolfwood's coat as if trying to anchor him to this world. His voice trembled as he pleaded, his words choked with sorrow.

❛ Promise... promise me you'll come back soon. You better old man.. ❜

Nicholas sobbed, his voice echoing in the silent room.

Wolfwood's heart shattered, for he knew that soon would be an empty promise. The weight of their shared destiny pressed against him, suffocating him with its inevitability. He wanted nothing more than to grant Nicholas's plea, to promise him the world and keep him safe from harm. But the truth was cruel and unyielding, a bitter pill they both had to swallow.

But as Nicholas clung to him, his small body shaking with sobs, Wolfwood knew the promise was empty. He was walking a path with no return, a path that would take him far away from Nicholas.

As he gently pried Nicholas' hands from his cloak and stood up, he cast one last look at the boy. His younger self. His heart ached at the raw pain in Nicholas' eyes.