𖥞

(Context: This was when Kasper got infected. So basically, Lampert doesn’t know that Kasper is still alive and at his apartment. He visited a few times, and Kasper was never there. So Kasper is Infected at the moment. He doesn’t remember anything. Not even Lampert. So mark my words, 𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑. 𝐈𝐒. 𝐍𝐎𝐓. 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃. Just in case if ya’ll think that.)

Lampert had came to visit Kasper a few days before. He looked in every corner. Every centimeter of the house. Nothing. He just decided to take Kasper’s electric guitar. Once he arrived home, he sat on his bed and held the guitar with shaky hands. He slowly started talking to himself. He genuinely thought Kasper was gone for good. Never to see him again.

“It's been a year without you, Kas. Ever since your passing I'm not able to hear your guitar riff anymore. I really liked it. It made me happy. So I've decided to take it into my own hands and learn it by using your guitar. I hope you don't mind. I'm trying, I wish you knew that. They all would've loved your talent…”

He said in his soft and monotone Turkish accent. He whipped a tear from his lampshade and gently started strumming, trying to get used to it.