bitchprince ([personal profile] bitchprince) wrote 2009-05-27 09:46 pm (UTC)

Leto was very accommodating like that.

He was just going to choose not to think about people who did give a damn about his feelings. His eyes flicked up at the ceiling, skimming past the clock. Eleven... something?

"I'll die another day, then," he spoke, mostly to himself, like a prayer he held every day (and he did, in his mind, somewhere) and then arched his back, making a little panting noise before that gave away to a short smattering of old Welsh.

If Leto even bothered to ask, he'd get no answers.

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