[rp] death is only a quiet door in an old wall.
[taking place immediately after this]
Elena's room is next to Jeremy's.
There are four rooms down in what was supposed to be the basement, something Martha and Wes decided early on should anyone need the shelter. The rooms have been decorated very, very nicely, and the walls are not paper thin. She could be talking to someone in her room or listening to music and it wouldn't necessarily reach Jeremy's room or vice versa.
She isn't listening to music this time, since she's studying for a test tomorrow she should be more prepared for but... so many things have been happening lately, Elena's let it slip to the wayside. She isn't listening to anything at all, isn't really reading the way she should be, and she jumps in place on her bed when Jeremy's fist connects to the wall.
The reading material is immediately placed aside, and she quickly makes her way over to his room. Elena knocks on his door, the knocks becoming increasingly more insistent as she hears him throw stuff around. "Jeremy. Jeremy! Open up!" she says, forgoing the knocking and pounding with her whole palm flattened against the wood. He doesn't listen. He doesn't even really look at her when the door does open, but Elena follows him.
"What is going on--Jeremy!" she yells, reaching out to grab him by the arm but he's already closing the door behind him. Elena stands there in the middle of the living room, confused and concerned and sad without even knowing, taking in a sharp breath.
She could sense he needs to be alone, but he goes on foot instead of taking the car and it's late and there's been a stalker and Elena calls him but he doesn't pick up in all her attempts. She tosses the phone onto the couch after leaving a voicemail and quietly makes her way back downstairs, hand slowly opening the door to his room.
Elena surveys the items that crashed onto the floor, and it's almost cruel she already has an idea.
Elena's room is next to Jeremy's.
There are four rooms down in what was supposed to be the basement, something Martha and Wes decided early on should anyone need the shelter. The rooms have been decorated very, very nicely, and the walls are not paper thin. She could be talking to someone in her room or listening to music and it wouldn't necessarily reach Jeremy's room or vice versa.
She isn't listening to music this time, since she's studying for a test tomorrow she should be more prepared for but... so many things have been happening lately, Elena's let it slip to the wayside. She isn't listening to anything at all, isn't really reading the way she should be, and she jumps in place on her bed when Jeremy's fist connects to the wall.
The reading material is immediately placed aside, and she quickly makes her way over to his room. Elena knocks on his door, the knocks becoming increasingly more insistent as she hears him throw stuff around. "Jeremy. Jeremy! Open up!" she says, forgoing the knocking and pounding with her whole palm flattened against the wood. He doesn't listen. He doesn't even really look at her when the door does open, but Elena follows him.
"What is going on--Jeremy!" she yells, reaching out to grab him by the arm but he's already closing the door behind him. Elena stands there in the middle of the living room, confused and concerned and sad without even knowing, taking in a sharp breath.
She could sense he needs to be alone, but he goes on foot instead of taking the car and it's late and there's been a stalker and Elena calls him but he doesn't pick up in all her attempts. She tosses the phone onto the couch after leaving a voicemail and quietly makes her way back downstairs, hand slowly opening the door to his room.
Elena surveys the items that crashed onto the floor, and it's almost cruel she already has an idea.