speak like child
Who: Gilford Rotterdale, Josak[open]
What: Waking up and wigging out.
When: n/a
Where: Among the houses
Rating: n/a
It was warm like sunshine, which absolutely blew Gilford's mind.
He rolled over absently, fingers out like spiders to skitter over the smooth surface of his sheets, reaching for the warmth soaking into them. The sensation also blew his mind; warm as it was, the world around him felt granular, rough and crumbling under his touch. A sigh escaped him as he pressed his cheek down, frowning at the sensation which was not his usual pillow. Slowly, with the lazy beauty of an exhausted child, Gilford rolled onto his back and stretched one arm toward the ceiling... opening his eyes into slits to see the sky.
It was so beautiful.
Carefully the boy began pushing himself up, rolling on his too-long limbs to catch hold of the wall next to him for balance. It was incredibly bright, the sort of light which never filtered into basement windows, all around him and glancing off of everything around him. It prickled at his skin, lapping his hair and sliding over the folds of his bedclothes with a beautiful blinding whiteness. Like an absolution, like heaven, like finally reaching that safe place he'd been searching for in Eliza's affections and Merry's tenderness.
Gilford couldn't stop the happy shriek of being in the sunshine again.
It echoed hollowly through the houses around him, sounding rather more pained than intended, but the boy already didn't care. He was tripping, stumbling, falling happily forward, fumbling with the world around him as the world catapulted past him. The outside smelled so good, fresh and earthy, knuckles throbbing happily as they brushed too harshly against something ruff and feet blissfully dirty from the cool ground beneath him.
So long as nobody found him, it would be beautiful.
What: Waking up and wigging out.
When: n/a
Where: Among the houses
Rating: n/a
It was warm like sunshine, which absolutely blew Gilford's mind.
He rolled over absently, fingers out like spiders to skitter over the smooth surface of his sheets, reaching for the warmth soaking into them. The sensation also blew his mind; warm as it was, the world around him felt granular, rough and crumbling under his touch. A sigh escaped him as he pressed his cheek down, frowning at the sensation which was not his usual pillow. Slowly, with the lazy beauty of an exhausted child, Gilford rolled onto his back and stretched one arm toward the ceiling... opening his eyes into slits to see the sky.
It was so beautiful.
Carefully the boy began pushing himself up, rolling on his too-long limbs to catch hold of the wall next to him for balance. It was incredibly bright, the sort of light which never filtered into basement windows, all around him and glancing off of everything around him. It prickled at his skin, lapping his hair and sliding over the folds of his bedclothes with a beautiful blinding whiteness. Like an absolution, like heaven, like finally reaching that safe place he'd been searching for in Eliza's affections and Merry's tenderness.
Gilford couldn't stop the happy shriek of being in the sunshine again.
It echoed hollowly through the houses around him, sounding rather more pained than intended, but the boy already didn't care. He was tripping, stumbling, falling happily forward, fumbling with the world around him as the world catapulted past him. The outside smelled so good, fresh and earthy, knuckles throbbing happily as they brushed too harshly against something ruff and feet blissfully dirty from the cool ground beneath him.
So long as nobody found him, it would be beautiful.