Work Text:
Broun buys some fruit juice from the corner store. They walk hugging it to their chest. The sun’s setting, and the gusty breezes off the water cut through their blazer. We can’t eat out tonight.
Broun sniffs once. They still feel hot.
In the lighthouse, Broun slides to the floor and drinks straight from the carton. They’ll label it later - Valence, my disgusting mouth was on this - Ah, right. Right.
Broun only starts crying when they realize what they’ve done.
They don’t stop. Can you hear me? Seven. It’s a bad joke. Please, let me know. I bought fruit juice.