[ There are faces in the water, waiting for him to join them, as he should have long ago.
Motion catches his attention and Adrian looks up, blinking as if he's just come out of a daze. He'd stayed by the window, but he had been lost in reverie between one visit and the next, staring down into the depths of the rising water.
The darkness poses no impediment to his sight; he can see that the man is hurt. Who or what could be responsible? He searches the darkness behind his would-be rescuer, and then his face, as if taking inventory of the new marks. A question for another time, he supposes, if he doesn't end up drowned regardless of the man's valiant efforts. The water is nearly halfway up his chest already, and still rising. He'd barely noticed.
He curses under his breath, holds up a finger to ask the man to wait, then dives under to retrieve the binder that had fallen out of his hands, dragged off by some unknown current. When he resurfaces, coughing for breath, he holds it up against the window, doing the best he can to press it against the glass without letting it slip.
There's little time left. All of that magic, all of that sacrifice, and for what? To put this man in harm's way because of his own foolishness?
Adrian swallows the panic and guilt in his chest, schools his expression. When he removes the binder from the glass, he presses his gloved hand against it. ]
Be careful, please. I'd not trade your life for my own.
set free
Motion catches his attention and Adrian looks up, blinking as if he's just come out of a daze. He'd stayed by the window, but he had been lost in reverie between one visit and the next, staring down into the depths of the rising water.
The darkness poses no impediment to his sight; he can see that the man is hurt. Who or what could be responsible? He searches the darkness behind his would-be rescuer, and then his face, as if taking inventory of the new marks. A question for another time, he supposes, if he doesn't end up drowned regardless of the man's valiant efforts. The water is nearly halfway up his chest already, and still rising. He'd barely noticed.
He curses under his breath, holds up a finger to ask the man to wait, then dives under to retrieve the binder that had fallen out of his hands, dragged off by some unknown current. When he resurfaces, coughing for breath, he holds it up against the window, doing the best he can to press it against the glass without letting it slip.
There's little time left. All of that magic, all of that sacrifice, and for what? To put this man in harm's way because of his own foolishness?
Adrian swallows the panic and guilt in his chest, schools his expression. When he removes the binder from the glass, he presses his gloved hand against it. ]
Be careful, please. I'd not trade your life for my own.