And The Clock Keeps Ticking...
WHO: The Baltics (Toris and Raivis)
WHEN: May 18th, evening
WHERE: Toris's home
WHAT: 'There were no survivors...' I haven't seen you for so long...'
RATING: A for angsting
One, two, three, four, check a wrist watch at the door...
Raivis took another breath, counting the seconds he inhaled, exhaled, inhaled again, fidgeting from foot to foot, restless, nervous.
Several weeks since last they'd met. Months? Long, too long, long enough for him to know that in however much time had passed, he'd greatly slighted one of the people he surely did not possess the right to call friend anymore. Missed calls not returned. Emails unanswered. Passing each other by, and it seemed innocent enough, looked innocent enough. They had both been busy, they had their own lives but-
He never tried. Raivis never really tried to talk to Toris.
It had taken some backroute, roundabout ways of checking in on his cousin that instigated the mire of extreme guilt to boil back to the forefront of his mind. Several hours of self-motivating and hastily researched directions and here he was, in front of Toris's home, waiting. He only hoped the bouqet, small as it was, could work toward some amount of redemption.
Mullein, myrtle and stock...