#allw4ys

"There's nothing left to say..." Dejected, arms cross over his torso, pulling the jacket closer, pulling himself inwards— Michael's attitude is less volatile than it has been so many times in the past. Not on the verge of an outburst, at least, though his body language remains tense ( as if what he wants to say is in active conflict with what he thinks he deserves to, guilt and anger lead and destroy each other in an endless loop for him ). "But you should have been there anyway."

dark eyes are wide with something unfamiliar on her face ; fear. her breath trembles in her throat and the sound of mechanical whirring behind her has irene's hands trembling. there is a terrible, sick feeling in her stomach and she steadfastly does not turn to glance behind - - - there is little trust left in her for most people, but she's smart enough to know that she ought to listen to him right now. "okay," irene's voice doesn't wobble even if her throat is tight with horror, "what - what do i do?"