There's no telling how long Viktor stands in Luther's bedroom before he coaxes himself out of it. It's early. Luther runs early. Isn't he usually back by now? Viktor can't remember, the way he can't remember a lot of things about his era of bygone numbness. He does his breathing exercises. He glares at his violin. He considers calling... someone. Mostly, he puts some pants on and brushes his teeth, a ghost squinting into a strange, liminal space.
HELLO? IS ANYONE HERE?
Viktor spits the toothpaste out fast swiping his mouth on the hanging towel nearby and letting it fall to the floor. Then, he sprints toward the stairs.
"Luther!" he exclaims, the edges of his voice a little unsteady. He peers down from the bannister to see his brother alive and relatively safe, though bloodier than he likes. Bare feet bolt down the stairs and he launches himself at Luther, damn the consequences.
"Jesus, I thought you were dead." Little arms squeeze him close, eyes shut tight. This is all pretty extra for a dream, but a dream from which he woke up changed and confused? Viktor thinks he's earned a little panic. Luther is bleeding, after all. "Are you alright?"
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HELLO? IS ANYONE HERE?
Viktor spits the toothpaste out fast swiping his mouth on the hanging towel nearby and letting it fall to the floor. Then, he sprints toward the stairs.
"Luther!" he exclaims, the edges of his voice a little unsteady. He peers down from the bannister to see his brother alive and relatively safe, though bloodier than he likes. Bare feet bolt down the stairs and he launches himself at Luther, damn the consequences.
"Jesus, I thought you were dead." Little arms squeeze him close, eyes shut tight. This is all pretty extra for a dream, but a dream from which he woke up changed and confused? Viktor thinks he's earned a little panic. Luther is bleeding, after all. "Are you alright?"