Date 10/8
Time:¹:⁰⁰am

           Classical music played in the limo. Dim lights masked the two figures in the back seats barely visible. Men and women alike circled Thoma as he remained by Ayato's side, back straight, in a finely trimmed black suit and eyes cast down on the black base of the car. Despite the many glasses of champagne, butterscotch, and wines that hogged his vision and tormented his nose, he somehow still managed to stay still and find comfort staring out of the car's window. A lady to his right tugged at the edges of his jacket, wrinkling his buttoned-up work shirt." Come on Thoma another glass ~ the wine is divine tonight," the words left her lips in a slur before the guy next to her pulled her onto his lap and proceed to make out right then and there, no shame existing whatsoever . . . But seeing them move triggered something in him. Rage, sorrow, sadness . . . They all spilled out once again and clogged his throat, making him pull at his tie as he slowly felt himself suffocate.  From the way they moved chest to chest and hips clashing, to the way they both giggled like no one was watching them, like they had all the time in the world.

        The car slowed down at a red light and Thoma did not even glance at Ayato and made for the door, rushing out of the car with so many sensations puncturing his chest, stumbling a little as a car zoomed past him. Unlike most of the city's shining canvas, the alleyways stood out with their dark corners and wet pathways. There was no indication what was there. Maybe it was just a dead end, but Thoma's legs moved nonetheless.

       " THOMA!" Ayato's voice followed shortly behind, blurred as he continued calling out to him, turning hoarse, high pitched, far. . . and then completely gone.

        "What's happening to me. . . " He cried, hands clawing at the red-tinted skin of his face.

          So he kept running even though his legs began to hurt. Even though it was so dark he could barely see his hand. Even though he could not breathe. Even though he felt trapped in a maze. . . Until his body gave in, foot tripping over overly stuffed black bags of rotting garbage and skimming over the ground, before crashing against the rough surface of the path of cement and concrete, but he could breathe. The air tasted strange, bitter, and sticky . His breathing was shaky, but he was able to maintain it and did not dare to not move. He just lay there. Maybe the alcohol had finally gotten to his head, or maybe something else. . . Not that he cared. Nothing mattered .

          After managing to turn around, letting his back rest against the ground, he stared up at the starless sky that was mostly hidden by the surrounding condominiums and apartments. There was nothing but darkness and its cold and welcoming embrace that had left him blind for years without end.

"Thoma. . . "

          A pitiful smile tugged his lips as he thought of her and her smile. Why could he not get her voice out of his head? Why did her voice make his chest flutter and swell in relief? Tears blurred his vision again as guilt devoured him alive, turning his silent sobs into cries of forgiveness, calls for help, and then finally screams of resentment that held no words.

           "Found you~" a blurred head popped in front of his vision, looking at him upside down. " It was hard to find the perfect time to find you alone you know."

           Thoma parted his lips, but what could he possibly say to that? His head hurt as he tried to think again, emotions pulled back again after finally having the chance to blow off some steam. " You can kill me, " his voice was dry and hoarse, and his lips felt wrinkled from tasting the salts of his tears.

          "Pitiful, " Childe nudged the blonde's shoulder that had now been stained with dirt and filth. "You know it wasn't so hard to beat up that driver and drug all those rich idiots in that limo." 

          He tossed the driver's cap onto Thoma's chest and crouched down close to his head. " I didn't expect you to run out like that, " he cupped his cheek and tilted his head. " What to do? I was gonna drive you and everyone in that limo to a very nice place. . ."

          Thoma did not move . . . More like he could not and simply lay there half awake. " Do you want to die just like that? I could make you overdose," The ginger spoke in no rush.

           Even death seemed to be taking it sweet time. " What do you want?" Thoma finally breathed out.

          It was then that Childe licked his lips and patted the blonde's cheek, "That's the spirit."

          Pulling him onto his back, Thoma found himself being carried to God knows where. The warmth radiating off Childe was almost lulling Thoma to sleep. He did not know weither he should be relieved or not that the ginger did not just swiftly kill him. "I did not like what your boss did to my Little Miss, she was trying so hard it was amusing, but you ruined it!" Childe sighed. " Honestly I've been clean for a year and here I am again, tsk."

          " Why?" Thoma spoke, still dazed as his sense slowly returned to him as they passed by a flickering lamp post lighting the alley. " Why didn't you leave if you hate it?"

            The ginger did not reply and glanced back to make sure there was no one around. " Maybe pity," he joked, thinking back to his old job and how he met his favorite little lady. " But I doubt it was solely a lovely concidence. Maybe you should try getting shipped off to military school as a kid."

          Thoma  scoffed , shifting to make himself comfortable on his shoulder. "What the hell are you even saying?" He groaned, despite the ginger chuckling at his response.

         " Pitiful things like you, Little Miss, and a few black sheep . . . " Blue eyes hollowed of emotion glanced back at Thoma and for a second they didn't look so dead and lifeless. " They wouldn't last a day alone."

           Silence settled in between the two and no words were exchanged until Childe stopped before the fire escape of a familiar building. " Home sweet home," he breathed in the smell of sewedge emitted from the other end of the alley. " You okay climbing?"

           The drugged man on his back shifted in response," Not worried I'll run?"

            " With those deer legs I doubt," the ginger grinned slowly letting the blond stand back on his two wobbly feet.

            His pants at the knees had ripped slightly, exposing the torn skin under, leaving blotches of red. " It doesn't hurt so much," he sighed, feeling only a small sting.

          " That's. . ." The ginger closed his mouth and smiled. " Never mind, after you, I'm guessing you still remember which floor it is right?"