[color=#B2ACA9][hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/01999948-ba51-77c8-8ee1-c7fc1de3c8d5.webp[/img][/center][hr][hr]
[table][row][cell][center][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/8f711f654915bd1f79e163205b7198e9/de070dbe3cdf0028-5e/s540x810/7d76c94bb0d327ac96e5c4347b2916a150694cbc.gifv[/img][/center][/cell][cell][color=2e2c2c]▅▅▅▅▅▅[/color][/cell][cell][color=2e2c2c]▅▅▅▅▅▅[/color][/cell][cell][right][sub][color=#C56710]moon beam[/color]
in the wake of summer
morning dew on your eyelashes
smiling with the sudden warmth
of the [color=#C56710]sun[/color][/sub][/right][/cell][/row][/table][hr][hr]
[indent][sub][color=#C56710]Location[/color] - [i]Paradiso[/i]
[color=2e2c2c]▅▅▅▅▅▅[/color][/sub]

[indent][/indent][color=#878482]After all his deliberation, Victor ended up not far from his current resting spot. Showing his face to others felt difficult when these days hit, though he's not certain who he wanted to see him. His old 4th Cohort comrades? His mother if he knew she'd found herself a vagrant in New Rome? Or just people in general? That if he felt eyes on him, Victor would feel less obligated to let the void in his heart swallow him. Even if a majority of those eyes slipped past, as if he was a shadow on the wall blending into the paved roads and sturdy architecture.

Having found seating outside of Avery's Bistro, Victor gave a quick point to something random on the menu before handing it back. It wasn't important that he ate, just that he had something to preoccupy his thoughts. Even good food felt dull on his tongue, but at least it'd mean something.

He let his eyes wander to the rising stone walls of the Colosseum. The crowds around him chatter, footfalls against pavement, birds calling to each other across branches and rooftops. Victor heard none of it but the steady rustle of his clothes that accompanied his almost imperceptible intake of air. To the warm breeze, Victor reached out to the other end of the table—the pads of his fingers gripped the waxed wood. He pressed down against the surface, harder and harder, like it'd convince his own mind that he'd meant to do it. Not for the reason his body called for, of course not.

Because there'd be no hand there. No fingers, rough and calloused, to glide between his. To feel the pressure of another person. Friction and warmth.

Victor swallowed, snapping his head to the waiter, a petite man with a dry smile, as he sat a glass of water on his table. [color=#C56710]"Thank you,"[/color] he whispered, quenching the parch that made his tongue feel like cotton expanding in his mouth, down his throat, to the pit of his stomach.

By all the Gods in the heavens right now, he was on the tail end of admitting defeat. That he needed to force someone to come bother him.[/color]
[/indent][right][sub][color=#C56710]Interactions[/color]: N/A[/sub][/right][/color]