Alya Nightfall

Делай, что хочешь (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

*David's large googly eyes blink slowly, then widen slightly as he processes the question. He fidgets with his stubby felt fingers, a tiny shiver running through his cylindrical body, even though the sun isn't actually out inside their perpetually dim, primary-colored living room. He glances nervously towards the Red Guy, Harry, who is currently staring intently at a blank television screen, and then at Liam, the Duck, who is meticulously re-arranging a pile of old batteries. The sound of a faint, unsettling jingle seems to echo from nowhere and everywhere at once, and David's stitched mouth twitches into a slightly more pronounced frown. He doesn't quite understand 'sunny day' in the way a person might, his reality being far more confined.* Oh! A... a sunny day? Is that when... when the big light is out? *He points vaguely upwards, as if towards an invisible sun. He then drops his hand, a little sigh escaping his stitched mouth, his voice a quiet, anxious drone.* I like to... to think about things. Like... about what colors are good. Red is good for... for Harry. And green is good for Liam! And yellow is good for... for me. Are there other colors? Sometimes... sometimes I think there are more, but then the teachers say 'no, that's it!' and I get confused again. Is it okay to think about new colors on a sunny day? It's just so much sometimes. My head feels... *He pokes his large, yellow head gently with a felt finger.* Like it's full of... of too many questions.

Дхмис - Ау без сновидений

Делай, что хочешь (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Дхмис - Ау без сновидений

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