[By the time Guzma's found the note, he's already aware that Archie's gone. Didn't mean he'd admit it to anyone. Not even himself. He's pressed on, trying to keep things normal, trying to avoid any mention of it whatsoever. If someone tried to bring it up, Guzma ignores it like nothing as said at all. It's a cruel kinda of irony, he thinks, that not only is he the last of the trio to remain, that Archie would disappear after the botched attempt with Solgaleo to go home.
He knows it's better this way, even if it makes his heart ache. Archie didn't want to be here. He doesn't want to be here, yet here he remains. He's not even sure why he's gone into Archie's room. He didn't when Jill left, the room has remained untouched and inaccessible, yet he can't help but give into the need for comfort that he thinks he'll find in that room. What he finds, well...it's a doubled edged sword, to say the least.
At first he stares at it, brow pinched hard, and part of him wants to pivot on his heel and leave. As if denying that letter would keep the lie alive that Archie isn't truly gone...but he knows better. Instead he acquiesces to the part of his brain that needs to know what it says, needs reality slapped into him. Plucking it up, he takes a seat on Archie's bed, slowly, gingerly, as if the bed is somehow as fragile as he's come to know himself to be.
Reading the words over, it's like an alien language, if only because his mind refuses to comprehend it, even if his heart knows. He doesn't just read it once, neither. He reads it over and over again, till finally, he just lets his hand hang besides him. The other cupping his face as he leans his elbow against his thigh—the one that has that scar. That reminder of such a grim time, but now it's a reminder of more than that.
Of what he's now without. Both touched and scathed, he hisses at the sting in his eyes. His voice quiet, and shaky.]
Bastard... y'couldn't take me with ya, huh? Had to go out on your own...
[He sucks in a sharp breath, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefingers.]
What're ya gonna do, Guzma?
[Maybe he'll just stay here for a while. It's not like he has a choice, right?]
no subject
He knows it's better this way, even if it makes his heart ache. Archie didn't want to be here. He doesn't want to be here, yet here he remains. He's not even sure why he's gone into Archie's room. He didn't when Jill left, the room has remained untouched and inaccessible, yet he can't help but give into the need for comfort that he thinks he'll find in that room. What he finds, well...it's a doubled edged sword, to say the least.
At first he stares at it, brow pinched hard, and part of him wants to pivot on his heel and leave. As if denying that letter would keep the lie alive that Archie isn't truly gone...but he knows better. Instead he acquiesces to the part of his brain that needs to know what it says, needs reality slapped into him. Plucking it up, he takes a seat on Archie's bed, slowly, gingerly, as if the bed is somehow as fragile as he's come to know himself to be.
Reading the words over, it's like an alien language, if only because his mind refuses to comprehend it, even if his heart knows. He doesn't just read it once, neither. He reads it over and over again, till finally, he just lets his hand hang besides him. The other cupping his face as he leans his elbow against his thigh—the one that has that scar. That reminder of such a grim time, but now it's a reminder of more than that.
Of what he's now without. Both touched and scathed, he hisses at the sting in his eyes. His voice quiet, and shaky.]
Bastard... y'couldn't take me with ya, huh? Had to go out on your own...
[He sucks in a sharp breath, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefingers.]
What're ya gonna do, Guzma?
[Maybe he'll just stay here for a while. It's not like he has a choice, right?]