Room 510, Tuesday Morning
Someone had called, but Squall didn't recognize the number, so he let it go to voicemail. When he got around to listening to the message the person had left, though...
That had been his voice, sort of. An older him. A different him. Maybe the one that had been a teacher here.
He sat down heavily on his bed and stared at the phone in his hands. That message had come from a completely different universe, one that shouldn't affect him, and yet it hurt so badly he could barely breathe.
(Door and post are open.)
That had been his voice, sort of. An older him. A different him. Maybe the one that had been a teacher here.
He sat down heavily on his bed and stared at the phone in his hands. That message had come from a completely different universe, one that shouldn't affect him, and yet it hurt so badly he could barely breathe.
(Door and post are open.)