[center][img]https://images.cooltext.com/5061359.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/eeAAwmu.png[/img][/center] [color=004b80][center][h3]Starbucks[/h3][/center][/color] Though their conversation had reached darker depths as it proceeded, trailing along Winter's less favorable habits, as was a commodity when assuring oneself of his health, the two then continued with more lighthearted banter. Hades, that was a cat ready to lighten even the darkest of hearts, and a companion Winter had not only grown attached to, but also viewed as a beloved member of his ever severed family. "Oh, I heard about that," Yuna spoke, motioning towards the television hung for all to see during a rainy afternoon, as they bathed in the warmth of serenity offered by a hot cup of chocolate and carrot muffin. "Geez, that must have been horrible."  "Why poison?" Winter asked curiously, his slender fingers resting against the warm surface of a porcelain cup.  "What do you mean?" Yuna turned to meet him once more, shifting her gaze from the flat screen for but a moment.  "Why poison?" Her younger sibling repeated, sipping from the chai latte he had ordered minutes before. "It would have been easier to stab her," he shrugged softly, "but making her imbibe poison? That's a statement." Ever the author, Winter was less than able to view events unfold without finding an analysis of the scenario playing on repeat within his mind. There were many ways of neutralizing that woman, each of which appeared more practical than a forceful intake of a poisonous substance. Scratching the back of his head, Winter proceeded to take note of current affairs. It would be a lie to claim that he wasn't somewhat intrigued by gritty scenes, such as this.  "Does it really matter? I mean..," Yuna sighed, turning back to the television, "they ask the questions when they catch him."  "And how'd they find him," Winter added, "without understanding his train of thought?" The aspiring author reached a slender finger towards his temple where it proceeded to lightly tap the side of his head. "You have to look past the morality of this, and think like he would. He forced her to choke down poison. He wouldn't just have done that, at random," Winter nodded, "I mean, you have to be pretty creative to mix together a venomous substance, or buy one, for that matter."  "So, tell me." Yuna pitched in, leaning back in her chair, "why didn't you pursue that police school you had your mind set on?"  "Look at me," the younger of the two offered quietly, his voice casual but brushing against a tone of melancholy like it did, ever so often. "Think they'd want someone so physically inept, a twelve year old would win in a fight?"  "Come on," Yuna sighed, shaking her head. "Give yourself some credit, brother. Use that head of yours for something other than coming up with fictional stories."  "Why?" Winter raised an eyebrow, lowering his gaze towards the notebook on his lap. His fictional stories were the only reason he could fight through the thoughts otherwise lingering, never to leave his side. They were the reason he could wake up every morning, and go to bed at night. Without them, he was nothing more than a depressed shell, a castaway too afraid to reach out.  "Because you could actually help someone in need, if you put your mind to it." She elaborated, "being an author fits you. Though, I don't think it should be your end goal. You know, like in Murder She Wrote?" A good show, for sure. An author aids the authorities in finding villains, in all the darkest corners of our minds. Worth a watch, indeed.  "You're getting ahead of yourself," Winter stopped her, "I stated a few obvious facts, hold your horses." He raised a hand and shook his head, in turn.  "Alright, alright," Yuna yielded. "Be that way, but remember something, alright?" She spoke, "within that little body of yours, there is a whole lot more than you're letting out. One day, you should stop forcing it all in." Yuna finished, meeting her brother's eyes for a moment before he, like always, averted his gaze.