Goodbye says it all

[golden_ruin]

Sitting at a table in the museum cafe, the table before Asher littered with crumpled balls of linen paper. In his hand is a Monte Blanc fountain pen, the nibbed end to paper once more. But he writes slowly, pausing often to try and think.

A frown on the side of his mouth that shows, that single orb of glacier blue narrowed, saddened.