It was the sweetness of your skin

[dreadinquisitor]

WHO: Maxwell and Sam
WHAT: boys though, what up with that?
WHEN: After the ball.
WHERE: Battlements, night
NOTES: Heartbreak and whining there of.

It had been some time since their fight, but still Maxwell hadn't spoken to Gavin. He had almost, at the Ball. He'd seen him and he had wanted to, but by the time he'd crossed through the crowd, Gavin had already been gone, out on the dance floor. Heart sinking, he'd slipped away... and he had stayed away since.

He'd been reminded of how different they were - elf and human, free and not - and there seemed to be little point in trying to pretend otherwise any longer.

He wanted to ask Korrin if she had anymore of that terrible Qunari brew stocked away, but he didn't wish to trouble her. So he settled for a bottle honeyed ale and the quiet of the battlements.

It was just him, the moon, and the mountains.

The ale and the gentle slide of the locket on its chain as he toyed with it.

A memento of his foolishness.

Comments

[el_tybs]

It wasn't often that he felt like a stroll, but with a lot of things on his mind he was finding sleep hard to come by this particular night. Rather than lay there in bed and stare at the ceiling though he ventures out into the night with a warm jacket.

Finding other people besides guards on the battlements was not an unusual thing, but finding Maxwell on his own was. For a time Sam just watches, unsure if he should approach, but at seeing the mug and fidgeting he eventually makes his way over. Clearing his throat only loud enough to be heard, he gives a small smile. "Star gazing tonight?"