Libria: Room 101

[live_to_feel]

There must have been a reason, Mary thought, for this room to be black.
You asked me once what was in Room 101. I told you that you knew the answer already. Everyone knows it. The thing that is in Room 101 is the worst thing in the world.
Every other room she'd been in, in any judicial area, had been white.
Somehow you will fail. Something will

Comments

[fathers_cleric]

Preston's here.

Black like the room, black like his mood.

He smells like smoke and burning flesh.

Quiet, as quiet as a dead man (which in truth he really was) Sitting across from her his look is anger and hurt and hatred and rage and fear and sadness and anxiety all rolled up into one.

It lasts only a second before his face resolves into nothingness.

He sits and stares and the stare occupies the space between them.

[live_to_feel]

(We are the dead.)

"We have to stop seeing each other like this," Mary teases, sarcastically. "People will talk."

[fathers_cleric]

"You would not reveal the names of your accomplaces. " Preston's blunt and to the point, "You said you Had none. that you were alone in this."

His stomache feels like it's in knots. There's a coiled serpent in his stomach clawing at his innards. In his mind he sees Partridge looking at him, smiling that sad condescending smile. His heart was burning on the inside and he couldn't for the life of him have guessed why.

"Errol Partridge."
It's said solidly and nonchalantly but the hurt's there. Underneath.

[live_to_feel]

Mary flinches, very, very briefly. It'd have to be watched over and over on recording to catch.

For a normal person.

Her eyelashes flutter, nervously, before she speaks.

"The name's supposed to mean something to me?"

[hrons839]