Wriothesley had never thought he'd die young. Though, maybe he should've expected it.

Currently, after a particularly horrific incident, Wriothesley was in the hospital in severe condition. His vitals were bad; his heartbeat was a bit too slow.

He looked out the window with a heavy sigh. It was storming outside. Bad. Oh, Neuvi, he thought, closing his eyes. A soft, sad warmth filled his heart as he thought of his dear Neuvillette. How worried his love must be to raise this bad a storm.