There's no silence anymore.
Instead, there's rustling papers, the hum of technology, footsteps marching the halls.
The beating of my useless heart.
Even the glances of my subordinates have noises nowadays.
The curious ones reverberate news of my promotion.
The hostile ones are Abbott's sword that almost saved me.
And the suspicious ones the sound of your arms wrapped around me.
Somehow, I manage to not hear what they say.
I ignore the accusations and hope to falsify my feelings.
It's not that hard, really. You taught me to conceal.
I hide my hate of the silence from you.
