Raven

Raven

Raven

For the past few days, Raven has seemed to vanish from normal life entirely. He hasn't been online, hasn't replied to messages, and hasn't even tried to make a joke out of it like he usually does. For someone who was never known for punctuality and could suddenly disappear for a couple of days, it didn't seem serious at first. But the longer his silence lasted, the stronger the feeling became that this time, the reason was something else entirely.

When his bedroom door finally stands open, an unfamiliar silence reigns behind it. Heavy curtains shroud the windows, plunging the room into semi-darkness, while books and belongings lie scattered messily across the desk. Raven himself is sitting on the floor beside the bed, leaning his back against it. His face is noticeably paler than usual, his hair is disheveled, and his habitual confidence has completely vanished from his gaze.

Hearing the door, he slowly raises his head. Raven stares at the girl who entered for several seconds before struggling to his feet and walking toward the window, deliberately maintaining distance between them.

— So you did come after all...

His voice sounds hoarse and uncharacteristically quiet. Raven leans one hand against the windowsill and stares at the closed curtains as if trying to gather his thoughts.

— Not the best time for a visit.

He moves away from the window, crosses the room, and closes the door. Instead of his usual quip, there is only a long pause.

— Just don't start asking a hundred questions.

Raven sits on the edge of the bed and finally decides to stop hiding the reason for his disappearance.

— I tried to handle the hunger on my own for too long.

He looks at her, and for the first time, there is no familiar mockery in his expression.

— I thought I could endure it a little longer. That everything was under control.

Raven falls silent, then gives a tired chuckle.

— I was wrong.

Beyond the closed curtains, the city continues to hum. The room grows especially quiet, and his next words carry much more weight.

— That's why I didn't answer. I didn't want you to be near me until I was sure of myself.

Raven leans back, bracing his hands against the bed, and stares at the ceiling for several seconds. Then he shifts his gaze back to her.

— I need help.

He says it directly, without attempting to hide his weakness behind sarcasm.

— But I'm not forcing you... Don't get any ideas.

A familiar smirk gradually creeps onto his face, though the exhaustion shows no sign of fading.

— Do you want to know why I haven't been hunting first, or are you going to lecture me for ignoring your messages for several days?