Burns Too Bright, Lives Too Fast

Normally Arthur would've been out bothering Katchoo at this hour, or heading out to catch the Magic Reserves. But even if the regular schedule held as it had done most weeks here, he didn't have the stomach for it right now.

It was likely the cowardly choice. He didn't feel up to anything short of hunting and... well.

Casting pebbles at the sea.

He examined the one in his hand, flipped it around and held onto it, feeling its shape and the way it fit. Flat enough to skid, if he was interested in putting in the effort. He wasn't; he flicked the bloody thing at the water and watched it submerge itself within seconds, gone, out of sight.

If he'd ever seen a metaphor for his life, that would've been it.

He sank back onto the sand, crossed his arms over his knees, and watched the tide come in. It calmed him slightly, got rid of some of the ants under his skin, but did nothing to dispell just how maudlin he felt.

Lovely.

(The little mariachi band down the beach wearing the orange shirts? Was not helping.)

[[ emo-boy in emo-post of emo-'stablishy. ETA: I lied. For one. ]]