[ It's only since coming to Kaisou that Husk has really had the chance to enjoy the holidays after joining the Order. Before then, it was just the odd year or two when he was looking after one of the kids - otherwise the holidays were spent miserable and usually drunk. Actually having a steady home and people to celebrate with is still... relatively new.
He wakes up to the immaculately wrapped present - he doesn't even have to guess who it's from. His family would just hand it to him and there's only one person who can sneak around him without so much as opening a door. Sneaky fucker. He carefully opens the presents - his fingers carefully tracing the shape of the sand dollar. He's heard of them, but he's never seen one in real life before. They're supposed to be good luck. He scoffs lightly, at it.]
You've got your work cut out for you.
[ He focuses on the lantern next, turning it this way and that. There's no soul in this one, but it's still nice to look at anyway. He turns his attention to the letter - squinting at it for a moment...before sighing and picking up his reading glasses to rest on his muzzle so he can actually read the damn thing. Naturally, it's full of Flins' careful words - formal and flowery at the same time, somehow. He'll never be any different, and Husk prefers it that way. He's plenty not those things for the both of them, after all. He stills when he gets to that last line. And came back to me.
He reads the line again. And then once more for prosperity. He sits back on his bed, scrubbing a hand through the fur at the top of his head, before rubbing his face with a haggard sigh. Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. He's down BAD. He didn't plan on this. He didn't plan on this man having his heart in a vice, like it was the easiest thing in the fuckin' world.
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Date: 2025-12-03 11:31 pm (UTC)He wakes up to the immaculately wrapped present - he doesn't even have to guess who it's from. His family would just hand it to him and there's only one person who can sneak around him without so much as opening a door. Sneaky fucker. He carefully opens the presents - his fingers carefully tracing the shape of the sand dollar. He's heard of them, but he's never seen one in real life before. They're supposed to be good luck. He scoffs lightly, at it.]
You've got your work cut out for you.
[ He focuses on the lantern next, turning it this way and that. There's no soul in this one, but it's still nice to look at anyway. He turns his attention to the letter - squinting at it for a moment...before sighing and picking up his reading glasses to rest on his muzzle so he can actually read the damn thing. Naturally, it's full of Flins' careful words - formal and flowery at the same time, somehow. He'll never be any different, and Husk prefers it that way. He's plenty not those things for the both of them, after all. He stills when he gets to that last line. And came back to me.
He reads the line again. And then once more for prosperity. He sits back on his bed, scrubbing a hand through the fur at the top of his head, before rubbing his face with a haggard sigh. Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. He's down BAD. He didn't plan on this. He didn't plan on this man having his heart in a vice, like it was the easiest thing in the fuckin' world.
He's in so much trouble. ]