⊰ ♝ ⊱ —Chaotic. If he was too use one word to describe the current situation flurrying in his mind after the games and it’s many struggles occurred, he would use the word chaotic. It was not that anything was particularly wrong… It was just off. In the past, he had found contentment with his life, despite an unknown growth of hatred that seared through him for his guild that had thus dissipated. Life had returned to it’s normality, to an extent of course. His relationships with many, despite his cold nature had grown vastly while the one he seemed to yearn for most dearly had exhausted itself — his kinship with the White Dragon Slayer.
Being level headed, he of course had the understand that as a Guild Master, Sting would have less free time but he felt as though that the lack of free-time and motive wasn’t what was lacking in their current relationship.. It was an over-all mindset that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. His teeth ground against each other in irritation, frustrated with not knowing something for certain or how to approach a situation. His legs instinctively carried him to the location he assumed Sting would be when he had nothing left to do for the day. He rose a pale, closed fist to knock on the door, but something stopped him from making a sound… He stood in the closed doorway.
Was it really necessary to bring up any issues, if there were any at all? The outcomes of a confrontational conversation played through his mind, pessimism slowly taking over like an infection. He sighed, lowering his hand to think for a moment. That’s how he was… He was logical. He was always the more logical of the two, driven by thought process rather than emotions. Or so he wanted to believe, for he knew it was not always so true or he wouldn’t be standing in front of Stings door right now.
Sting…
His heart ached for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on… He searched for it in others, but had yet to fill a void that had recently become vacant. Swallowing heart, he rose a fist again to knock gently on the wooden door that stood between him and his best friend and now guild master. What was even approperiate anymore to address him as, “Sting?”… “Master?"
Another audible swallow followed by a heavy sigh to regain his composure, his face returning to the stoic, expressionless features it normally portrayed. "It’s me. Can I come in?” He didn’t need to address him currently, if he could avoid it he would. Before an answer could be given, his hand was already placed upon the handle and pushing open the door.
「♕」Many weeks had past since the Grand Magic games had ended and like wildfire, his life had turned ablaze with responsibilities and duties he had seen, yet had not foreseen. Sting knew his life would busy and he’d need to adjust to this new life as Guild Master, but never did he think that he’d be tired constantly and trying to organize, file and fill out many documents. Day by day, he felt drained, but at the same time he felt satisfied. Satisfied that he was doing work to better his guild, keep it stable and watching over his comrades at the same time.
His life was passing him by so quickly, but what never left his mind was his fascination for The Shadow Dragon Slayer. For years, he was fond of him and that fondness grew over the years. Before he knew it, it had developed into something else. Something…more than friends? Or was it just his mind, no his heart playing tricks on him? A hand brought up and rubbed his temples. “Oi oi…” he groaned and tilted his head back. His heart ached and yearned for something more…but he couldn’t. He, for one, had guild master duties and second, he’d probably be happier with Yukino. Another whom he had his eyes on, but he figured Rogue liked her and they’d be happier together. Besides, no ridicule would befall on him nor would be be bothered being with a “man”.
The blond shook his head and ran a hand through his hair roughly. “Why…am I even–No, it’s not like that. Rogue he is my brother, my comrade…Nothing more right? I mean, what if—” Before he could muse aloud further a knock, followed by, well—“speak of the devil.” He quickly looked in the mirror and fixed up his hair and cleared his throat as he slipped on his glasses and returned back to work, or pretended to. “Yeah~ go ahead~.”
From the other side of the room, he caught a glimpse of black and gold and heard the other shuffle in. Something was off, he could feel it. He had known Rogue since they were children and Rogue did not have to speak when something was wrong–Sting could sense it. Slowly, he turned his head toward him and turned his chair as he tilted his head. “Rogue? Is everythin’ okay?” he asked quietly and his lips pursed as he leaned back in his chair, crossed his leg and raised a brow, "and don’t gimme that BS of ‘everythin’s okay. I’ve been watchin’ ya Rogue. You haven’t been yourself sicne the games. So, spill. Unless ya want me to make ya.“ A sigh passed his lips and turned his eyes away, "I’
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