[To say that Clive was crawling out of his skin wouldn’t be much of an understatement. Everything had been building, and building, and building, and sure. There were times of relief, moments of reprieve, of relative quiet, but with each passing day he could feel what he had been resisting bubbling higher and higher and it was finally starting to boil over.
Earth. Verso. Vander. Innocents. Yuri. An Zhe. The bunker. The fog. Joshua.
That is to say, he is about to blow his fucking top and the idea of being alone for even a second more of any of this sounds unbearable. And honestly? So is being sober.
Which is how he ends up outside Cid’s apartment with a large, brown paper bag in one arm, a case of beer in the other, and his backpack slung over his shoulder. He “knocks” by kicking the door lightly a couple of times.]
Action
Earth. Verso. Vander. Innocents. Yuri. An Zhe. The bunker. The fog. Joshua.
That is to say, he is about to blow his fucking top and the idea of being alone for even a second more of any of this sounds unbearable. And honestly? So is being sober.
Which is how he ends up outside Cid’s apartment with a large, brown paper bag in one arm, a case of beer in the other, and his backpack slung over his shoulder. He “knocks” by kicking the door lightly a couple of times.]
Cid, open up. My arms are full.