Send me a ✢ for my muse's reaction to seeing yours standing on their doorstep soaking wet in the rain.
He was here again, soaked to the bone. It was a rather odd picture that Volkner painted. Blond hair basically plastered to his skull. He looked downright miserable and something about that tugged sharply at Flint’s heart strings.
Volkner had a habit of showing up with some bad news, always when it rained and Flint knew that it was always something that had to do with Volkner’s parents. Flint wasn’t sure what exactly it was. The conversation of Volkner’s parents was always safely veered onto other topics and while sometimes Flint would grow agitated and frustrated with the lack or answers, he would eventually accept it.
He only wished that perhaps Volkner’s parents could accept it as well because obviously something was going on there. There obviously was something wrong when his best friend adamantly refused to talk about his family. There was obviously something wrong when his friend didn’t brag about his family like Flint often did.
No words left Flint’s mouth. His eyes had said enough. Normally bright gray eyes were now swimming with pity and a tiny bit of guilt.
But eventually something had to be said.
“You comin’ in or what, Volk? Sheesh…what the hell were you thinking? You need to invest in an umbrella or somethin’.”
He was just trying to lighten the mood by nagging him. Showing any sympathy right now probably wouldn’t help Volkner open much. He didn’t need sympathy–he needed a friend, didn’t he?
And Flint would be there.