dont you bore us

Lirika frowned. Svetovid stared. His heart beat fast. He couldn’t hear it, but he could feel it, thumping like a scared rabbit. The silence dragged on, stretching dangerously thin like dough until at last it was ruined – plucked apart and torn. Lirika’s reply was surprising, considering the horrible outcomes he had been envisioning from the moment the sigh had fallen from her lips. He couldn’t hold a smile back, the breath he’d been holding gently escaping from his chest in what might’ve been a laugh, had sound been added. The smile was stolen quickly when she spoke quietly again – a doubt. The brute immediately felt stupid – presumptuous – for having even allowed a fraction of light, of joy, on his own face. He turned his head down slightly, his expression a shoddy attempt at stoicism to hide the disappointment. ”Right, of course,” he said, his mouth drawn in a straight line. His eyes spoke sadness. Licking his lips, he’d glance to the side briefly, and then back at Lirika. ”Can I… can I stay here tonight?” he asked, unsure. After all, she had said that it was dangerous walking on the cliffs at night.