It was starting to get warm again; his shirt stuck to the back of his neck like glue. Up ahead the city was looming, the buildings standing piggly wiggly over the crooked streets. It had been a couple years since he had returned. The air still smelled the same, heavy and metallic with slightest hint of earth.
People stared as he pushed Fenrir down the streets; the markets had become too crowded over the years for him to be able to race down the streets like he used to. He remembered that feeling of darting around the jagged corners, that feeling of weightlessness and certain chaos looming on the horizon. It was gone now, despite how hard he looked for it.
He was constantly seeking that one more moment, that one more gut wrenching feeling of pain or pleasure. He had experienced it numerous times over his short life, but it had always left him wanting more, especially after he lost them. It was like living on from where they had left off, facing off one on one with foes, jumping cliffs on Fenrir, losing his grip on his sword only to plunge in fists first. It was the closest he could get to letting go of the build up, the press of desperation against his chest.
He could usually hold it off for a while, find a distraction, but eventually that press and need would find its way into his chest; it was that time again.
The bar was quiet, empty midday afternoon crowd; a couple people sitting at the bar, drowned and lost in their glasses. He wasn't looking for them though; he snuck off to the side, finding the low window in the alley that gave a glimpse into the kitchen.
Marlene and Denzel were sitting at the island, books out, pens out, but they weren't working on homework. They were laughing, something she had said set them off. She stood on the opposite side of the counter, washing dishes. Her eyes were bright, her stance open, but he knew.
He waited, half an hour, maybe a full, before she found herself out in the alley, a trash bag in her hand. He watched from the corner, feeling his heart swell and press against his chest.
To call out to her would be poison, to ignore her would be death.
She looked up, her eyes catching him, startled, but not completely surprised.
Or maybe he was a figment of imagination to her; she was blinking past him, turning her head towards the voice of Marlene. She wouldn't believe him to show back up after all this time, she would believe she had imagined it.
She slipped back inside, and he watched through the low window.
How do you reintroduce yourself? How do you find courage when all you've known is cowardice for so long? He wanted to cry out, lift a hand in greeting, but he didn't. He stayed buried, hidden, shameful.
What he wouldn't give for one more moment, one more caress, one more touch; the world felt empty without them, but for as much exploring and traveling as he had done, there didn't seem to be a path back to where he had started. It was lost, buried, and there was no way to find his way back. No way to apologize, no way to find his footing.
He felt it dig, a claw in his heart, but it was time to move. The city disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. He watched it in his rearview mirror, feeling the drag of those he left behind pulling on his shoulders.
He dug in, lowering his shoulders, and accelerated.
A/N: Depression is a heavy beast. I hope everyone is doing well :)