[It's been some time since he came to this world. His wing is healing. Much of him is. The village is quiet and peaceful, entirely abandoned, and it feels like a world unto its own. Sometimes when Mili leaves he wonders if this is an isolated Heaven in which he's meant to wait. He did expect something like that. But, when they return, he's reminded that it's a foolish thought. He's merely away. He's still lost.
He tries to be happy when they're here. Sometimes he is. They're an interesting kid, a sweet child. They try really hard to make things nice for him. But his heart still aches. He still wishes for home so desperately. The only difference now is that he also wishes for Hell. Just one part of Hell.
Their voice rouses him.]
Buenas tardes, Mili. You may, of course.
[He can't recall that he's ever said no.
The little fairy is looking more fairylike every day. He thinks he's maybe the opposite. He's let him go even more dishevelled. His hair's been growing. He still offers a smile.]
no subject
He tries to be happy when they're here. Sometimes he is. They're an interesting kid, a sweet child. They try really hard to make things nice for him. But his heart still aches. He still wishes for home so desperately. The only difference now is that he also wishes for Hell. Just one part of Hell.
Their voice rouses him.]
Buenas tardes, Mili. You may, of course.
[He can't recall that he's ever said no.
The little fairy is looking more fairylike every day. He thinks he's maybe the opposite. He's let him go even more dishevelled. His hair's been growing. He still offers a smile.]
And how are we today, Milito?