#4: Wake

Notes: Related to #2, supposedly the aftermath


She doesn't know why she's here. In frustration, she runs a hand through her hair roughly and rubs her tired eyes. If she had the willpower, she'd be back in her cell, contently wasting her life away. Yet she's been in here for the past week, waiting for something to give.

"But this isn't a question of willpower, is it?" She asks him quietly, her hoarse voice ringing in the gravely silent room.

She scoots closer – as close as she can't get really – until she's sure he'd wake up anytime now. He'd wake up and tell her off, tell her to step away from his space. Surely, he wouldn't allow her to cling onto him like this, like some pathetic fangirl, and pretend to be fine with it.

"Wake up and tell me to go away," she almost pleads, but only almost because she reminds herself that this is the guy that impaled her with his katana like she was a rag doll – instead of a living human being, or his comrade that practically did every thing for him before he fucking tried to –

She's up and at the door before she knows it, the noise of the upturned chair barely registering to her. All she can do is control her ragged breathing and clutch her left chest in desperation as the electricity fades away.

She's gripping the doorknob and twisting it, pushing the door open when she hears it.

She walks back slowly, possessed and in a daze. Only maybe she ran because she's back by his side immediately. She doesn't really care though because -

It's unmistakable, that obsidian.

"You said you'd see me," she murmurs.


- DarlingDearestDeadForever