Work Text:
Vio had lost track of time, not that he was very surprised. It had definitely been weeks, if not months. The bread was definitely coming less frequently, not that he could be exactly sure how much. It'd been days since he'd heard another living soul breath, maybe months since anyone had said a single word around him.
It was cold, now.
The air felt stagnant, as if nothing had moved for some time.
He certainly hadn't. With how little bread he had been getting, it hadn't made sense to waste the energy. His brothers had never come back, although the few men that had come to gloat had stopped showing up after a few days.
Vivo's stomach gave a pang and he curled up further, trying to squish his stomach out of existence so it would stop hurting already. He tried to form his hands into fists, but the muscles didn't want to clench, their grip weak.
He wasn't dumb. He knew what was going to happen at this rate, if nothing changed. The signs were all there and the blond instinctively tried to swallow at the scratchy feeling in his throat despite that. His mouth was dry, his throat sticking to itself as he tried futilely to swallow, parking his cough painfully. The drip of the water had stopped, both a blessing and a curse. It stopped tormenting him with the sound, but now everything was too silent. Sure, he was introverted and preferred the company of his own thoughts to the boisterous activity his brothers seemed to enjoy, but sometimes he wanted to join in and deliver his own one-liners, laugh and play around.
He remembered the last prank he had played on Blue. It had been hilarious watching his face slowly become more frustrated as every time he turned around something else was out of place in his very carefully organized system. The Minish were willing accomplices for the right price, after all. The rest of the evening had been spent with his brother, helping to reorganize everything and eventually the two had laughed about it. A smile crossed his lips, until another pang stole it.
…What had he been thinking about again?
It was hard to remember, sometimes. The dark and quiet made it feel like his head was splitting in two, caving in on itself. He missed his brothers.
He would cry, if he could, but he had no more tears.
Where were they?
Was anyone going to come save them?
Vio wasn't so sure, anymore, and with each pang of his stomach and dry tear he felt his grasp on hope slip further from his grasp.