(no subject)
He was thinking about him again. Lord, how he hated thinking about him.
Tyki didn't even open his eyes for the first few moments as these thoughts came to him in the dead of night. Why do the have to plague his thoughts now? After a few fruitless minutes of attempting to return back to slumber, he cracked his eyes open. He was warm even though he wasn't covered in blankets. Instead, he'd found himself nestled at the bottom of a rather impromptu and haphazard dog pile. Sandwiched as he was between them and the couch cushions, he was anything but unhappy. Actually, he was more content than he had been in a long time. Anger, hatred and lust for revenge danced just out of range. They'd come back to him when he needed them.
He shifted a little, trying to dislodge himself. Neither the man sharing his face nor the little girl curled on top stirred. He extracted himself slowly, inch by inch trying not to wake the others. Once he was free, he stood feeling the bunched muscles stretch and pop now that they were out of their confinement. He headed for the door, but turned his head in question back to the couch when he felt eyes watching him. But the two were just as he'd left them. He stood at the door staring at their hushed breathing for a few heartbeats before leaving.
Tyki was torn, really, between staying in that room and wandering. But his fingers tingled after being idle too long, and the thoughts of that man wouldn't leave his head.
None of the above. All of the above. Junior. A disaster.
He was releaved to find no one in the halls. His thoughts could remain his own uninterruped. His feet found their way to the dining hall in a similar empty state. He stood at the head of the table before pulling out a chair and sitting down. The sound of wood scrapping against wood echoed loudly, a bit too loudly. He sat there pensive with his fingers intertwined in his lap. The entire area seemed dead. Devoid of life. Nothing moved with them as the Akuma had been pulled somewhere. The Boss was up to something, but he couldn't find any ambition to care about what. Tyki brought a hand to the bottom of his throat fingering a charm. Not exactly a charm. It was a faded poker chip fastened around his neck with chain. He'd kept it. Couldn't fathom parting with it actually. The Memory of Dreams. But then his thoughts drifted back to that man. The ones Dreams had picked. The idiot who forgot how to eat. How to think. How to live. The fool who he is pretty sure Road took away to some corner of her realm and put him out of his misery. Tyki pushed a cigarette between his lips as he berated himself. He wasn't cut out for having people under his care.
He pulled up his legs to let his heels rest against the edge of the chair with his knees pressed against the table's edge. His mind giving him reprieve by moving onto another subject. Tyki couldn't understand the other's actions. Why he cared about that one so much that anger would not find purchase within him. Why revenge would not come to the front of the other's mind at the act committed against him. How this one Road could captivate him with only a face and a name. This Road meant nothing to him. He couldn't create an image from her and, thus, there was no connection. This wasn't Road whose hair he toweled down after playing outdoors. Or the Road whose back was scarred and wanted nothing more than to be held. Nor was she the Road that watched the world go by with unseeing eyes, but had the brightest smile when it was coaxed out of her. And definitely not the Road who liked to sleep outdoors or anywhere she could find. These all were Road. This other Road wasn't. Her image brought nothing but a dry sensation on his tongue and a boiling in his stomach.
He let the sensation wash over him. He'd decided her punishment earlier. If he actually executed it, however, had yet to be seem. Feelings and spur of the moment decisions drove his hand more often than not. But he could wait. Let the other's have their chance first. It didn't matter. All that did was at the end of it all his would stick. Would hurt the most.
He threw his legs over the arm of the chair, rising back to his feet. He felt... Tyki didn't know. But he headed back to his wine cellar. His home away from home. Because right now he was craving warm flesh, quiet breathing and slight murmurs in sleep to fill these empty halls with life. The sense that everything was as it should be in the world.
All that mattered in his world anyway.
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No idea where this came from. *Shrugs.* Probably from the fact I'm amused that both Solo and Road passed out on Cardio.