Post by Goya on Sept 15, 2017 18:16:43 GMT
Damn it's hot, the hybrid conceded internally, lifting his arm and using the back of his hand to wipe free the trace of sweat that had started to sprout and bud upon the teen's furrowed brow. The golden red disc sun baked those caught in its glow far beneath it, the hot coin now only just beginning its dip into the sombre liaise of nightfall.
Clouds, thin and light, had undergone the melting of its normal puffy white pillowy appearance into a wash of oranges and mauves, warming the rich blue sky with a tinge of crimson and pink. Even dressed as lightly as he was, the teen could not escape the suffocating heat that had stifled the atmosphere, voiding any chance of respite from its baking warmth.
Goya Komorebi sighed as he inspected his hand, now coated in the slime of perspiration. His dark locks had grown slick and limp the longer he was cooked, stuck listlessly to the man's slippery forehead. The slither of sudor notably excreting at the rear of the teen's neck and along his shoulders and back made even walking in the warm sunlight uncomfortable. His simple tee shirt glued to the ripples of his muscular frame.
The decision to train on this day of all days had perhaps been his own undoing. Deciding to spend much of his time working on his cardio and strength alone in the thickness of the Bamboo Forests, for the most part, he had been sheltered from the direct sunlight that was now roasting the back of his neck in the annoying warmth.
Fidgeting from the discomfort, the teen decidedly sought any form of sanctuary from the baking elements, peering along the path that led towards his home, hoping to discover an escape from his melting state. Spying a small innocuous cafe across the street, the youngster tilted his head back, spying the road for traffic before changing his direction completely.
Swiftly crossing the road, the teen pushed open the door to the small joint. Its cramped interior lined with tables and chairs had certainly seen better days. The wallpapered faded walls void of the contrast of colour looked deflated and sad. The small scene unwelcoming as Komorebi entered into the dingy little haven.
There were few within the cosy building, save for the lone staff member disinterestedly staring at the clock that hung above the serving counter. No doubt waiting to be granted her reprieve from the day's shift.
Guiding his way along a wall of fridges that contained popsicles and canned beverages, Goya stalled when he found the drink he was seeking. Opening the door to the frost box, a wall of cold air instantly washed over the sweaty teen. A small smile pulled his lips into his cheeks, glad of the sudden and swift change in temperature as he sighed with relief, "I could stay here all day," he muttered to himself.
