(no subject)
Adair dropped his backpack at his feet and stretched, rubbing his tired, red eyes and trying to smooth down his mussed up hair. The train from London (while it had been more or less comfortable for the most part) had been an exhausting journey; he'd spent most of his break going over the information YuHua had given him about his bad luck, his new knowledge that he was the one to blame for his family's deaths, for every bit of misfortune that had had happened around him. He'd never really thought of himself as harbinger of destruction before, and all of this self-hatred was completely new to him.
It was true, he'd left something at home, but he wasn't sure what it was, didn't know how to put it into words. It was his innocence perhaps, or his sense of well-being. Things he couldn't really get back.
He went to touch his earrings, trying to remember the last time he'd spoken to his father in person. He wanted to go back and say sorry, for all the things he'd done to the man, for all the trouble he must have put him through. Instead he kicked at the ground, scuffing up his trainers.
It was true, he'd left something at home, but he wasn't sure what it was, didn't know how to put it into words. It was his innocence perhaps, or his sense of well-being. Things he couldn't really get back.
He went to touch his earrings, trying to remember the last time he'd spoken to his father in person. He wanted to go back and say sorry, for all the things he'd done to the man, for all the trouble he must have put him through. Instead he kicked at the ground, scuffing up his trainers.