Now I'm gonna reap what I sow

[dreadinquisitor]

WHO: Maxwell Trevean and Gavin Ashara; Gavin Ashara and Pel Ashara
WHAT: Maxwell and Gavin crush awkwardly, Gavin's ex-fiance wanders in. Dun dun duuuun.
WHEN: Forward dated slightly to just before the Mire signups.
WHERE: Battlements
NOTES: All the sadz. Maybe some language? Will updated if needed.

Walking the battlements, Maxwell was on patrol. Watching the dark night sky and the cold, moonlit horizon for rippling wings or marching shadows. In reality the only he'd seen were shining stars and the occasional animal - foxes and rabbits, kiting across the ground.

Humming to himself, a old Marcher battle hymn, he leaned against the stone and chased a familiar constellation with his eyes.

Comments

[dreadinquisitor]

He might have laughed, was starting to smile - a stranger, embarrassed for having walked in on them; him, blushing, but happy - but both died quickly when he turned back and saw the look on Gavin's face. He had just enough time to process that something was horribly wrong, but before he could even ask, Gavin was pulling away.

"Gav--"

Then he was running away. And in a heartbeat, Maxwell was standing alone in the quiet of the battlements, feeling like he'd been struck. Uncertainly, his hands flexed at his sides and he turned, eyes blank. Lost.

There was nothing to say. There was nothing to do.

He could only stagger back into his patrol, watching the strangely emptier horizon.