i'm looking for you, looking for your dark curls to come out of the forest anytime soon. the others want us back at hq because time's running out, but i won't budge, i'm standing my ground — i won't leave, not without you. i might lack empathy for a lot of things, not be the most friendly person ever, nor the best sibling, but clearly they can see concern across my face, and in the way my finger is fidgeting on my machine gun, almost counting seconds from the moment i'll finally recognize that familiar silhouette of yours among the trees.

you said 1:00, and it's already past one. i hate surprises, and you know it. punctuality is an ability you come obviously short of. oooh that i hate you right now,
i hate you for this.
you better be struggling with some walking mushrooms at the moment or watch me be the one to give you hell if you're late for just a couple flowers and sentimental trinkets when you return.

the fireflies i'm with are whispering among themselves, unwilling to have me share my inner thoughts with them by the way i'm furrowing my brows, eyes staring into the distance, locked onto the horizon with some scary resolve typical of me when upset (and emotionally unavailable).
one tap on the shoulder usually suggests something worthwhile, however all they can come with is about moving forward. sorry junior, one dares say, fist against his chest, all somber and weighty, but moh might be gone by now, as his right hand misses the other and pulled by gravity, all fingers coming together through his left ; you know that.

yes, do i reply with dismay, hand clenched and head nodding at the same time, most certainly hurt myself to even have to reconsider my own principles over a man i pretend not to give much a fuck about, but about whom i cannot come to terms with the fact that i could actually take a bullet for him regardless of circumstances. guess it's too late already, that i've grown soft on him for years now, just like the rest, just like jannah. although with moh, it's different, somehow — being the same age at such critical times, must plays a huge part in the bond part. he's too significant to simply be left behind, too meaningful to easily let go of. i let him know that i'm no fool as i sign rejection of that red clown nose bullshit, flaring my nostrils like windsocks and looking at him really pissed off of this whole conversation ; but he got no right to die today. so shut up and give him time. otherwise i'll drag him out of the hole he's in myself.

guy pauses, and after a quick minute surrenders. we'll give his crew another 10 then. after that they're on their own, got it? signing o-k to end said discussion as fast as it started.

back to my position, back to counting seconds and flies, i sat there in silent shock, immediately catching on whatever you were holding into your arms with care — ain't no way.
ain't no way you'd be that dumb.