𝐦𝐜𝐲𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 !

story of tonight | fundy x eret

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘥. 𝘪 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 6+ 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬. 𝘪 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵.

𝘴𝘰 𝘪'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘤𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘭'𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘩. 𝘪 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯.

𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘥𝘰, 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘴 '𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘵' 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 wldbrbt 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 lzrtown (𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥)

                                 -

i may not live to see our glory

lanterns dance lazily, illuminating the musty inside of the bar. grime-coated windows overlook narrow cobblestone streets that are being battered by the harsh rain but inside, the tavern is a warm, cozy sanctuary filled with the buzz of life.

toby is on the small wooden dancefloor, twirling a disgruntled tommy around to a mellow jazzy guitar while laughing merrily. sitting jauntily on a barstool is wilbur, crouched over the counter and sweet talking the doey-eyed barman into bringing him more rounds. the barman obliges as well, blushing heavily as he fills up the glasses with shaking hands.

but i will gladly join the fight

floris sighs in fond exasperation at this, well familiar to the way wilbur croons at pretty young men; and shrinks back into his chair, ever the wallflower. he's used to looking from the sidelines, watching the antics of his comrades: his closest friends, from afar. but today is bittersweet and he desperately wants to be with them, to spend perhaps their last true moments of peace and contentment togther.

alas, shyness is a curse he simply cannot seem to shake.

so he watches, resigned to his silence, and fakes sipping from his glass to kid them into thinking he's fine. not that anyone has noticed him.

and when the children tell our story

except someone has.

a figure looms over him, interrupting floris's brooding and with the confidence of a peacock, plonks itself right in the middle of the dutchman's lap, draping it's arms around his shoulders.

floris gave an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak of indignance at the intrusion and jerked his body in a poor attempt to remove the person straddling his hips. all this did was make the figure above him chuckle softly and the dutchman felt coarse fingers cup his chin and tilt it upwards so that he was staring directly into alastair's glazed eyes.