Even though the girl's face was smooth and calm, she didn't fool Feitan. Her footsteps upon returning were quick and forceful, and her hands were clenched tightly. Whatever she had heard had not made her happy.

She almost-almost-slammed her door closed after she entered her room, walking straight to the desk in the corner and sitting down in the worn office chair. She opened one of the drawers-which he had failed to notice before-and pulled out a closed laptop. She put it down and opened it with what could nearly be considered force, and after a few seconds, she began typing furiously. Feitan didn't really care what she was doing. But days upon days of nothingness had piqued his curiosity on anything that happened.

"What are you doing?" He was surprised with himself for speaking up, honestly. But he was bored. He wanted to have some fun while he had the chance.

The clicking of the keyboard ceased momentarily, but soon began again without an answer from her. Feitan tried again. "What are you doing?" Still nothing. This time, she didn't stop typing.

Feitan smiled a small smile. He asked again. And again. And again. He knew what would happen. He knew human behavior. He knew she would break. She'd yell at him, telling him to stop, or she'd give in and tell him what she was doing. She'd groan in frustration, or go somewhere else so that she didn't have to deal with him anymore. He hoped she didn't leave, though. He had been in here too long without his toys, and he missed causing people to break and collapse, even if it was just a small reaction. A small reaction was better than none. It was only a matter of time.

...Or so he thought. Feitan eventually lost count of how many times he'd repeated the same dull question, and besides her initial pause, the girl hadn't moved an inch. She hadn't given any sort of reaction. She was perfectly ignoring him. A scowl crawled onto Feitan's face. He repeated himself again and again and again and again and again. With each murmured question from the Spider, more anger bubbled up deep inside him. His eyebrows knit further and further; he glared more and more at the brightly colored back of her head, wishing he could bore holes in it. No one had ever endured him this long, and he hated it. Red entered his vision. He was gritting his teeth now, forcing out the questions. He was determined to break her, no matter what.

No matter what...? Suddenly, Feitan came to his senses, and he paused. Why was this bothering him so much? He was normally calmer than this. His frown deepened. Staying in this prison under such horrible conditions seemed to actually be having effects on him. As if it had only just now come into effect, he realized how hungry he was, and his muscles began to ache. He sighed, his eyes closing. He hated this prison. He let himself calm down completely, listening to the silence.

The silence. What happened to the typing?

Feitan opened his eyes and looked ahead, locking eyes with the girl across the hall. She had stopped. Her chair was turned halfway, and she was looking at him with a furrowed brow. She looked...confused?

"What are you doing?" The question made her pause, but only for a second. She didn't know what the interests of the prisoner behind her were, but she couldn't care less.

"What are you doing?" She ignored him once again, keeping focused on her work.

When he asked a third time, she knew what he was up to. She smiled to herself. She had faced this trick many times. This guy may have thought he was clever, but to make her snap, he'd have to try harder than a simple repeated phrase. As his questions droned on, she let them become absorbed into the background noise. On and on he went, the tone of his voice unchanging. She had to hand it to him, he was certainly full of persistence.

And then something changed.

At first, she thought she had imagined the sudden, yet thin veil of anger that laced his words. But that veil grew slowly thicker and thicker until one could easily pick out his rage. She smiled and almost laughed. He'd tried to bother her, but he got himself fed up in the process! The smile on her face morphed into a look of annoyance when he began shouting. She sighed, attempting to shut him out again.

It would've been easy, if not for yet another change.

His shouts of anger had switched to another language. One that she'd never heard before. She turned around in her chair, unflinching at the sheer anger on his face but surprised nonetheless. Somehow, she got the impression that he was UNAWARE he had even switched languages or even that he was shouting. It sounded...odd. His eyes were on her, yet they were unfocused and did not meet her own. She couldn't help but stare.

And then just as suddenly as his fit had started, it ended. His face lost its wrath, and he sat calmly; he looked as if he were thinking about something. His unfocused eyes closed. Several long seconds passed.

He seemed to realize something then, opening his eyes. This time, his eyes met hers with focus. He looked as confused as she felt.

The two stared at each other. The girl did not turn back to her computer, and Feitan did not close his eyes to rest.

"What?" He broke the silence.

"...Nothing," the girl said after a pause. "What's YOUR problem?"

"Nothing," Feitan replied. As her grey eyes stared into his, he felt the urge to look away. So he did, looking everywhere that wasn't her face. This allowed him to scan her room another time. She looked at him quizzically as he did this.

"Why does a member of the prison staff have such crappy quarters?" He didn't really know why he bothered asking.

He expected an answer or a lack of one. He did not expect the girl to burst into laughter and almost fall out of her chair.

"P-Prison staff! HA!" She choked out through her giggles. Feitan just looked at her as if she'd sprouted another head.

After her cackling ceased, she looked at him with a soberingly serious face. "I'm not a member of the staff, Feitan. I'm a prisoner here, just like you."