𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣

ᴠɪᴇɴɴᴀ
ᴀ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ

I see the night time haze fall over the land around me, just sitting on a hill, with no one to talk to. The air is cold, and it's freezing my blood, I feel a slight breeze drift by, I shiver.

I'm far away from anyone, maybe three miles from everyone who I trust and who I trusted, but I like the seclusion. Gives me the privacy to drink away my problems, not that I had any to drink away anymore..

No more excuses for the full bottle in my hand, and the books scattered around me. No more excuses for the way I like how the golden liquid dripped down my throat, burning all the way down to the point it was the only thing I needed to think about, and not the issues that plagued my mind.

No more excuses.

The books around me were from years in the past, I found them in Pogtopia and after asking Wilbur, I took them with me. They were journals filled to the brim with words, filled with adventures I couldn't even dream of having.

They had plans, blueprints for houses, little stories hat had me biting my nails by the end of them, but they all had something worth reading.

Someday, I will find the words to fill a thousand books, and they will be simple. It will be simple. I'd write about my life, and hope someone could find some sort of comfort in the confusion, in the conflict. I'd write about the city, how Dream took me in when I'd lost everything. I'd write about early morning sparring with Sapnap, long conversations with George, jokes and all the planning with Dream.

I'd write about Charlie. About Charles Grant Blue, my brother. About how I miss him everyday, how safe I feel knowing he is with me still, how I know I'll be okay when I die because I won't be alone anymore. I'd fill pages with every dripping drop of ink I have left in my pen, and I'd leave the books for people to read. I would leave them behind for people to read to their children, or could cry to at night, or laugh, or anything.

I'd just leave them for people and hope that one day, someone would find them and remember them.

One day, when I'm gone, I'll be remembered through the pages I write, the books I leave behind. My legacy will not be a person, it will be me, and everything I want shared.

But for right now, all I have is this bottle, and these books by authors who completed my dream.

God, how sad is that?

Something touching my shoulder caught my attention, and I jump up, bottle raised in a defensive position. But I lower it when I see a dark haired man, with dark grey eyes. He seems lost, confused, but I am not. The man is familiar.

"Charlie!" I say, wobbling on the spot from how much I've drank. The man smiled, and looked over my appearance, an even wider smile on his face. His look of confusion wiped from his face.

"Vinny!" Charles says, though doesn't try and move, he stays planted in one spot, and I realize he's almost transparent. His dark hair seems slightly grayish now that I'm looking at it closer, and his eyes are almost white.

Through all of that, I see why I should be the confused one.

"How- how are you here?" I say, laying the brown bottle on the floor, almost knocking it over as I went to embrace my brother, but I walk straight through him. He tenses as I do so.

"I- Im not actually sure to be honest, but I like the new look, suits you." He says, shaking out his limbs. Charlie seems older, almost like he's a few years older then me, when I should be older then him..

"Well-" I start then cut myself off, not actually knowing what I wanted to say.

Honestly, what do you say to your dead brother who you've only ever remembered because you died, and only talked to for a few minutes, and, let's not forget, don't even know how he died!

I missed you? How are you?

Like those all would be fine, if you could actually come up with something afterwards!

"Yeah.. um!" He starts, looking around the small house, eyes catching on all of the beer bottles. "I like what you've done with this place, very clean." Charlie's voice was filled with sarcasm. I grabbed my almost empty bottle and down it, rolling my eyes as I walking inside the small house.

I try and grab some of the bottles to throw them away, but a knock at the door stops me.

"Who could that be?" I wonder aloud, throwing a bottle in a trash bag. Charlie walks past me, longer legs then I remembered going to the door and peaking his head through it.

Like actually, through it.

"It's the guy with pink hair, a crown and devilish fangs and scars, he seems really cool! I like his earring.." Charles says with his head through the door still. He pops back inside with a grin.

"Is He your boyfriend?" He teases, but no intention behind that, I blush slightly as I shook my head.

It's not that I didn't find Technoblade attractive, I just don't see him like that. Sure, he's good looking and god, he was hella handsome, but I didn't see him like that. I see him as a friend, I think.

I hear knocking on the door again, right as I'm about to open the door. And true to Charlie's words, a man with pink hair and a crown stands outside my door, lantern light glowing dimmer and dimmer. He's shed his red cloak and his sword, now only wearing the white button up and his red and black pants. The golden boots still tightly secured on his feet.

"Techno? What up?" I ask, letting the man inside, watching as he pauses, looking around the messy room. He rolls his shoulders, and blows out the lantern, laying it on the floor.

I look around for Charlie, but he's disappeared, like he wasn't even here in the first place.

"Wilbur has told me about a plan." He signs, turning to face me. His face is twisted into one of joy, but contained and controlled, almost alarmingly so with what he's about to tell me. "He wants to blow Manburg to pieces."

𝟷𝟶𝟿𝟼 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

(ᴀ/ɴ- ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ ɪs ʙᴀᴅ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ, ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜᴇs ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀʏ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ʙᴇ ᴍᴇ

ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ <𝟹