[The last thing Blue had expected to interrupt his day was a surprise visit from Red- how had he even found him?- but the moment the apartment door had opened, everything had been set into an inescapable, spiraling motion.]
[He knew that he had said some deeply personal things last month- about his family, about Red, about himself. Some of these things he'd said in front of people he trusted; others, he'd spilled in front of people he'd later been anxious of biting him in the Feebas for what had been revealed to them.]
[He just didn't think Killua would have been in the latter group.]
[Red's supposed desire to "talk", laughable as that was conceptually, had ended right where Blue had figured it would, which was the moment the floor was opened to him. Immediate. He scoffs to himself that Killua had thought it his place to push for Blue to pursue something he knew wasn't real. Somehow, that had only burned him more- maybe there had been that small glimmer of hope trudged up last month for things that he knew were only fantasy. Now, it was snuffed out again.]
[Feeling just that, snuffed out, Blue didn't bother going back to the apartment once Red wanders off again to whatever loner path he's walking nowadays. It was an excruciating buildup of emotion- anxiety, loss, frustration, anger, heartbreak. It built up like the heat pressure in a stormcloud, and darkened the skies over him, cracking and snapping with that thunder and lightning like it had when Red had first shown up. So he does what he did then: he exiles himself.]
[Unfortunately, all of this had been so unexpected that this exile comes with some snags; he didn't have his full trainer bag on him, which meant he had literally nothing. Even Blue, who had spent his first few months of life here desperately insisting he could take care of himself, needed some basic supplies. So eventually, reluctantly, full of dread- he heads back in the middle of the night to the apartment, with the small hope that he could slip in undetected and escape with the things in that apartment that he needed, and the things he didn't want to leave behind. He steels himself, hand on the doorhandle and trying to turn it as quietly as possible, to take in the short-lived prospect of a peaceful, hospitable life one last time. He didn't expect to be back.]
action; late night of 7/8
[He knew that he had said some deeply personal things last month- about his family, about Red, about himself. Some of these things he'd said in front of people he trusted; others, he'd spilled in front of people he'd later been anxious of biting him in the Feebas for what had been revealed to them.]
[He just didn't think Killua would have been in the latter group.]
[Red's supposed desire to "talk", laughable as that was conceptually, had ended right where Blue had figured it would, which was the moment the floor was opened to him. Immediate. He scoffs to himself that Killua had thought it his place to push for Blue to pursue something he knew wasn't real. Somehow, that had only burned him more- maybe there had been that small glimmer of hope trudged up last month for things that he knew were only fantasy. Now, it was snuffed out again.]
[Feeling just that, snuffed out, Blue didn't bother going back to the apartment once Red wanders off again to whatever loner path he's walking nowadays. It was an excruciating buildup of emotion- anxiety, loss, frustration, anger, heartbreak. It built up like the heat pressure in a stormcloud, and darkened the skies over him, cracking and snapping with that thunder and lightning like it had when Red had first shown up. So he does what he did then: he exiles himself.]
[Unfortunately, all of this had been so unexpected that this exile comes with some snags; he didn't have his full trainer bag on him, which meant he had literally nothing. Even Blue, who had spent his first few months of life here desperately insisting he could take care of himself, needed some basic supplies. So eventually, reluctantly, full of dread- he heads back in the middle of the night to the apartment, with the small hope that he could slip in undetected and escape with the things in that apartment that he needed, and the things he didn't want to leave behind. He steels himself, hand on the doorhandle and trying to turn it as quietly as possible, to take in the short-lived prospect of a peaceful, hospitable life one last time. He didn't expect to be back.]