/¯°•º¤ϟϞ҂ Hallway to Umbra Coven ҂Ϟϟ¤º•°¯\
Agastya couldn’t help but pause as he stood in front of Enzo, his eyes scanning the fragile lines of his face. The summer had been a blur of sun-kissed days and late-night talks with other friends, but he hadn’t heard from Enzo once. Not a word, not a text, not a glance before he vanished.
But here he was, now, standing in front of Oggy, looking like he’d been put through a wringer. Or maybe just his own torment. His eyes were sunken, his skin pale, and his usually sharp jawline was dulled by the shadows of fatigue. Agastya felt a pang of… something. Concern, maybe? Guilt? It was hard to pinpoint.
But Agastya had no right in being upset over the radio silence Vincenzo had given him over the summer. Now they were back on campus, not friends. Where did that leave them Agastya wondered. “What does it look like, Staya?” Enzo huffed. It looked like Vin had just punished himself again, forced his own discipline on himself atop what fate was getting ready to deal him. “You know the answer to your question,” Enzo continued, his voice low.
“You look like you’ve been through hell.” Agastya wasn’t sure what else to say. “Sorry, no, I meant you look like you’ve been put through a spin cycle with a side of bricks? Probably shouldn’t give you ideas.” As He watched Enzo, he couldn’t help but notice the subtle changes in his face. The way his eyes seemed to be trying to hold back a storm, the slight curve of his lips, the faint smudge of fatigue etched on his forehead. It was like studying a map, trying to decipher the hidden terrain of his emotions. Too bad Agastya practiced words and not feelings.
Agastya took a step closer, his eyes locked on Vincenzo’s face as if I was trying to memorize every detail. His left eyebrow was slightly raised, a tiny twitch that hinted at a mixture of frustration and pain. Around his collar, a faint bruise that seemed to be spreading like a slow-moving stain.
Agastya could see the tension in his jawline, the way his teeth were clenched together in a silent snarl. It was like he was trying to hold back a scream, or maybe just a really strong opinion. He could almost feel the weight of his silence, like a physical presence that was making my own skin feel tight.
As Agastya studied him, he could sense the fragile threads of his emotions, like delicate vines that were threatening to snap under the pressure of whatever had happened. It was like trying to read a code, deciphering the hidden messages in his face. But even as he was doing this, he knew it was all just an act. A carefully constructed mask that Enzo was wearing to hide what was really going on beneath the surface. And yet…
“Okay, now pretend I’m me from last year. Freshman year, whatever. As a friend, it wasn’t your fault. Whatever it is, at least not completely.” Agastya took a step back, looking anywhere but Enzo’s face. “Okay. Back to present me. I’d tell you to go screw yourself but it looks like you already did.” What had left him looking like this? And why did he seem so… broken?
/¯°•º¤ϟϞ҂ @raviola • Vincenzo ҂Ϟϟ¤º•°¯\