cuando muera la tarde // death

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]He didn't go out with a bang, or a whimper, or a blaze of glory. He didn't go out honorably, didn't trade his life for someone else's like he always thought he would when death first became that inevitable end in his mind years ago. He did not die lonely in his bed, either in his sleep or after fitful tossing. It was death. No label mattered to a man lost what had mattered, let alone if he made people long gone proud by dying for something greater than himself.

He didn't.

Gabriel crawled back and forth between two points, wings losing volume and luster with each circuit. His feathers littered the path, marked his steps as much as the trail he wore with his paws did. From Laz to Moon, from Moon to Laz, back and forth, where he lost hours to lying across mounds of dirt that bore his imprint, just a shadow of a man come to haunt the wreckage of a home built on the backs of boys not long for this world. No home without a foundation, and he- tried, he did. He tried to be the person he was before, but he couldn't fit, too many ragged corners, too many bleeding edges. Not enough care for a future.

Des was out there somewhere, but he wouldn't go searching for someone running, who had a chance -however small- of fleeing someplace brighter than anywhere Gabriel could take him. He didn't know how to stray from his path anymore, either, locked to coordinates. Sometimes he found flowers. Most of the time he drew shapes into the dirt and remembered. Disconnected pieces, their voices, how different they were and how it should have been him.

"You don't get to leave, too, okay?"

"Te amo mucho, papá."

"I don't hate you. Don't be dramatic."

"No es tu culpa."

But it was, and he was tired.

Gabriel didn't know which grave he laid his head on this time, but he knew, when he closed his eyes, he'd be seeing both of them soon.

Not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with a sigh going home.
[align=right][i]——INFO

[ATTICUS]

▹▹▹▹ Atticus did not know Gabriel personally, nor was he certain what had drawn his paws out to that section of the territory that day, but the sight that he was to bear; the scattered feathers and the peaceful, quiet body of Gabriel draped across the two graves was somehow... morbidly beautiful. His paws stilled as his body came to a quiet halt, his breathing barely permeating into the air as a wisp of sound, a hushed, ceasing silence over the area, as if the world itself dare not disturb the area. It was only in a long moment later that his head bowed respectfully to the fallen man that lay upon the graves, showing what respect he might now for the fallen dead. "Travel well," his low voice murmured gently. He knew, in time, others would soon follow his steps to this place, drawn to the smell of death, that a proper burial would have to be held; but for now, he paid his quiet respects to this stranger of their homelands.

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[adomania]

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Guns emoji @ u as I track this

[demeter]

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[Beatles.]

[FUBUKI]

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