█▐ ❆ ࿐ᐤ STRETCHING LYON’S QUID throughout a jaunt from the city to this mountain came effortlessly to Gray, himself never having been in possession of such a fortune. The plot they hatched seemed quite feasible, their psyches still BOYISH enough to be naïve to the true rigors of hitchhiking.
Although their aspirations were to carry on quickly after a brief respite on the summit, a storm was pummeling upon their tenuous tent —- like stubborn fists that battered them into an unyielding SUBMISSION. The shifting of Lyon’s sleeping bag next to him and a foreboding growl of an impending thunder urged Gray into a state of TWILIGHT. Upon enduring a violent &&. unsuspecting incursion to his side, however, one of the youth’s sloped eyes fluttered open in irritation; a scowl manifesting upon chiseled visage as he regarded his counterpart.
❝ Ugh. Rib me again, I dare ya’, ❞ Gray groaned, and with enough reluctance he finally willed himself away from Lyon’s welcoming warmth; flipping briskly onto his side, his back towards the other. The surrounding tranquility &&. darkness just as quickly COAXED him back into a former trance. He sighed, lifting a forearm to nestle against his heavy lids — vexation waning in the wake of a cumbersome fatigue.
❝ …’M staying right here, asshole. ❞
