(I'm sure it's just because he wants to be able to complain in his head without being undignified by kvetching out loud)
The attic room was bare and worn, but clean. The light of the single candle flickered on the crumpled sheets on the bed, on the pale gold hair arranged, funeral-like, over the shoulder of the still figure tangled in the bedcovers.
The air smelled of decay.
If Von Krolock’s heart had beat, it would have skipped and stuttered at that moment. He moved his hand blindly to close the door behind him, and the wooden planks struck the doorframe with a dull thud, like a coffin lid falling shut.
“Frau Kinga?” The voice was the one he knew, but so weak and strained, almost silenced. “I told you I’d be all right – the candle’s still-“
“Herbert,” von Krolock murmured, unable to stop himself from audibly reassuring the boy’s identity.
A jerk, a sigh that was almost a cry, grey eyes falling open, and for once he blessed his unnatural speed as a second later, he was gently cradling his son.
“Father.” Herbert’s voice was breaking even more, now. “I thought you’d come.”
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Here's your prize: VK being the King of Melodrama. Herbert gets from him, really
Date: 2006-03-20 04:58 am (UTC)The attic room was bare and worn, but clean. The light of the single candle flickered on the crumpled sheets on the bed, on the pale gold hair arranged, funeral-like, over the shoulder of the still figure tangled in the bedcovers.
The air smelled of decay.
If Von Krolock’s heart had beat, it would have skipped and stuttered at that moment. He moved his hand blindly to close the door behind him, and the wooden planks struck the doorframe with a dull thud, like a coffin lid falling shut.
“Frau Kinga?” The voice was the one he knew, but so weak and strained, almost silenced. “I told you I’d be all right – the candle’s still-“
“Herbert,” von Krolock murmured, unable to stop himself from audibly reassuring the boy’s identity.
A jerk, a sigh that was almost a cry, grey eyes falling open, and for once he blessed his unnatural speed as a second later, he was gently cradling his son.
“Father.” Herbert’s voice was breaking even more, now. “I thought you’d come.”