Four corners
Yzak felt like he was floating. The bedsheets under his fingertips felt like nothing at all, and the feeling of ground beneath his feet was almost mocking – he couldn't possibly be here, like this, by himself, feeling like he was being suffocated by the heavy silence of the room. The only sound was the silent humming noise of the ship and the faint, painful thumping of his heart that was the only thing that reminded Yzak that he was alive, after all.
But then again, the world "alive", apllied to himself, seemed more like a sick joke.
On the bed across the room were several personal belongings – Dearka's lighter, the golden one, a few photos of similing faces Yzak had only seldomly seen, a few CDs, a stash of magazines, a wristwatch.
The silence was bearing down on him, devouring his very being.
Dearka Elthman, Missing In Action.
It was actually just an euphemism for: Lost And Most Probably Never To Be Found Alive Again.
Yzak's breath was heavy, as seemed every step he took towards his former roommate's bed.
He's gone.
Yzak reached for the golden lighter.
Dearka's blonde hair.
That blonde hair that Yzak would find nowhere ever again.
He tried to flick it on, only to notice that it seemed empty. He tried to switch it on until his thumb hurt from the friction. Enraged, he threw it against the window with a choked noise that could have been everything - a cry or a sob, but it didn't even crack slightly, only hit the glass with a small clack, then fell down onto the bed again.
Dearka's smile that was gone, the slight quirk of his blonde eyebrow.
The sound of him snoring lightly across the room at night – where should Yzak look for it now?
His voilet eyes that shone with mishief, that cocky grin, the teasing, smooth voice, the snide remarks, the sound of his footsteps right behind him, always right behind him ...
Yzak stared into space from behind the massive glass numbly. For what should he go out there and fight? What for should he stay in this room that did nothing but remind him of Dearka?
Why should he stay in the middle of these four corners, the only one left behind, with the memory of those warm eyes that he would never see again?
He did not cry, did not scream, did not want to be there right now, wanted to be nowhere, nowhere at all.