Whoever selected Damon's evening wear for the night has provided him with no fewer than two jumpers, a jacket, thick wool socks and a pair of boots.
But those things don't matter, because the first item Dimi finds when he wakes is a green and silver scarf that smells like sweet almond. Something twisting and terrible settles in his stomach as soon as its in his hand. He stands, because he has to. He checks his journal, because that's what the others are doing. He sees the message. Hurries barefoot to the chalkboard.
"No," it's a hoarse whisper as he pulls his brother's photo off the board. Looking at Calvin's face, smudged with black, Dimi feels the rock in his stomach burns to cinders. His hands come up, like he's going to flip the entire chalkboard over, but they find his face instead, dragging over his eyes and mouth. It doesn't stop him from shouting. "God damn it. No!"
His head is all fire. But the ground is cold. "God fucking damn it." He needs those boots.
Dimi & Open
But those things don't matter, because the first item Dimi finds when he wakes is a green and silver scarf that smells like sweet almond. Something twisting and terrible settles in his stomach as soon as its in his hand. He stands, because he has to. He checks his journal, because that's what the others are doing. He sees the message. Hurries barefoot to the chalkboard.
"No," it's a hoarse whisper as he pulls his brother's photo off the board. Looking at Calvin's face, smudged with black, Dimi feels the rock in his stomach burns to cinders. His hands come up, like he's going to flip the entire chalkboard over, but they find his face instead, dragging over his eyes and mouth. It doesn't stop him from shouting. "God damn it. No!"
His head is all fire. But the ground is cold. "God fucking damn it." He needs those boots.