[div style="margin-top: 30px; text-align: center; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 35px; color: white;"]pierce parker
☀ — and till the end you're my very best friend
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Hana Song- it was a name long-since forgotten by Pierce, one that, although it belonged to a person who had been with him through nearly everything, had faded months ago, along with many other memories of his old life. Her face, however, was one that still appeared in his dreams, however blurry and smudged, her voice but a soft whisper in the back of his mind, a fragmented bit of the memory of someone he loved that his brain was struggling to piece together. It had been so long. He could remember the stench and crimson-tint of the blood, her blood, the sounds of his own cries of protest as the girl forced him to leave her. He'd known if he left, it would all be over for her, but what else was he supposed to do? Dump Clementine into Riddler's care and abandon the two of them with no explanation? Not like he'd done much better in the end, anyway, but he continued to tell himself he'd done what he'd had to. Right?
Pierce had been spending more time out of camp lately, due to his family's return. It wasn't that he didn't want to be with them - every moment he was away from them again he worried, ached to see the two of them once more just to make sure it wasn't all a dream -, it was just that they... seemed to need some space right now, so he'd respect that. He had been on one of the patrols he made just to pass the time when he spotted her- a joiner, in the distance. She had pretty fur, he noted, as he approached, humming a soft tune to himself as he shoved aside any lingering thoughts about his family. He didn't quite focus on the femme's features as he flashed a bright smile, though when he blinked honey eyes and fixed them on her face, he felt his stomach drop. He knew that face. It was a face he associated with good times, with a warm feeling in his chest, though it was also one that brought back memories of the utmost pain, one whose story he knew didn't have a happy ending.
It was her.
Her, the girl whose name alluded him, the girl who, no matter how many horrifying or warm and fuzzy feelings accompanied memories of her, he couldn't identify. Three months, and he still couldn't put a name to her face. Just a week ago, he would have given anything to be in the position he was now, seeing her again, but now that his... friend and daughter were home and the three of them were trying to stabilize the family, he wasn't so keen on going after this girl, this girl that had caused him so much pain in his life. But he loved her, didn't he? Wasn't that why all those warm, cozy memories of them together, playing games, telling stories, even just resting in his or her home, returned to him in his dreams? Wasn't that why he'd laid awake so many nights, trying to keep tears from spilling from his eyes all the while wishing she was with him to help with whatever hardships he was facing? Slowly, he blinked down at the molly, perhaps confused, perhaps simply shocked, before breathing, "Is it really you?" Could he have really finally, coincidentally, stumbled upon the girl who he'd been seeing in his dreams, especially so soon after his own family returned to him? It all almost seemed too perfect- god, he swore he was going insane.
"speech"
Pierce had been spending more time out of camp lately, due to his family's return. It wasn't that he didn't want to be with them - every moment he was away from them again he worried, ached to see the two of them once more just to make sure it wasn't all a dream -, it was just that they... seemed to need some space right now, so he'd respect that. He had been on one of the patrols he made just to pass the time when he spotted her- a joiner, in the distance. She had pretty fur, he noted, as he approached, humming a soft tune to himself as he shoved aside any lingering thoughts about his family. He didn't quite focus on the femme's features as he flashed a bright smile, though when he blinked honey eyes and fixed them on her face, he felt his stomach drop. He knew that face. It was a face he associated with good times, with a warm feeling in his chest, though it was also one that brought back memories of the utmost pain, one whose story he knew didn't have a happy ending.
It was her.
Her, the girl whose name alluded him, the girl who, no matter how many horrifying or warm and fuzzy feelings accompanied memories of her, he couldn't identify. Three months, and he still couldn't put a name to her face. Just a week ago, he would have given anything to be in the position he was now, seeing her again, but now that his... friend and daughter were home and the three of them were trying to stabilize the family, he wasn't so keen on going after this girl, this girl that had caused him so much pain in his life. But he loved her, didn't he? Wasn't that why all those warm, cozy memories of them together, playing games, telling stories, even just resting in his or her home, returned to him in his dreams? Wasn't that why he'd laid awake so many nights, trying to keep tears from spilling from his eyes all the while wishing she was with him to help with whatever hardships he was facing? Slowly, he blinked down at the molly, perhaps confused, perhaps simply shocked, before breathing, "Is it really you?" Could he have really finally, coincidentally, stumbled upon the girl who he'd been seeing in his dreams, especially so soon after his own family returned to him? It all almost seemed too perfect- god, he swore he was going insane.
"speech"
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