☤ forty-nine

[as_damaged]

This room has a door, and the door is securely locked. By a lot of locks, actually. More locks than any sane person puts on a door, spanning the whole right edge, with a few scattered along the top, even on the hinge side. Most of them have simple knobs to turn; a few dangling security chains are clipped in place, and one or two can only be

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and if i lose myself, what if you find yourself where you are?

[worksmart]

If she were trapped, the cage would be built for two. He couldn't say how he got here, or how long it's been, except that he can't presently remember anything before being in this room, in the corner with his feet at right-angles to the wall, watching her. Watching her watching.

If she notices, turns away from the door and the slow dismantling of her defences she'll see a face she knows or knew four years ago. His hair as long as it was back then, curling just under his ears. His clothes even traceable to a certain point in their history, before there really was much of a they to speak of. Against the blank sheet of the wall his colours are muted, as though he's dreaming himself in sepia. He seems to know her better than he should, although the first thing to break the silence besides the metallic scrapes of locks and keys is a question.

"Why are you doing this alone?"

and if i lose myself, what if you find yourself where you are?

[as_damaged]

That's a question she can't answer, not because she doesn't know why but because it's too obvious to vocalize. clack, clack; two bolts slip out of place as she refastens one. Cameron spreads her arms to go at this with both hands, a little clumsier for the split in her attention, flat against the door. It doesn't really help.

"It's just a matter of time..."

She glances ever so briefly at him, before returning to her task.

and if i lose myself, what if you find yourself where you are?

[worksmart]

"What is?"

He pushes away from the wall and circles around her, narrowing the distance until their shoulders touch. He slides a bolt home, feeling the resistance behind it and wonders what she's waiting for. Keeping the wolf from the door.

The answer wasn't obvious. As he reaches to drive another lock into place and catch another half way to opening he almost asks again why alone, but maybe the answer will come another way. A matter of time. Maybe she really is this stubborn.

and if i lose myself, what if you find yourself where you are?

[as_damaged]

"Until I can't keep up," she answers, deceptively calm. There's more to it than stubbornness, but very little she can voice. Even having him here... If one were compiling a list of things that scared her, in any possible way...

The pace of whatever is on the other side picks up, as though the assistance he's offered can't be tolerated. Bolts fly out of place even faster, the force necessary to counteract it growing. Cameron never despairs, though; something nightmarish in itself, the firm set of her jaw in spite of the terror in her eyes.

A few heavy pounds shake the frame itself.