hayden can barely remember the last time someone has been this quiet around him. there’s always talking involved with him; whether it’s an argument started from his side or the stubborn refusal from his opponent someone is always talking. sometimes people like to talk OVER him as well, like he isn’t really there although he can perfectly hear every single spoken word. the others aren’t stupid. they don’t really believe he can’t actually hear them. they just know he doesn’t care. maybe it’s the same thing with seraphine. maybe she couldn’t care less about WHAT he has to say or if he doesn’t say anything at all. and maybe she just doesn’t trust him enough to open her own mouth just yet. he wouldn’t blame her ( hell knows whatever those sadists did to her at the facility ). hayden has only ever heard rumours, horrifying and maddening things from brainwashing to immane torture. most people who ended up there didn’t come out alive or not alive enough to be considered viable.
she’s quiet, is the thing. her eyes practically glued to every single of his very moves, every breath he takes, every little glance he throws her way. a part of him wonders if she’s AFRAID of him while the other part is determined to tend her wounds. some of them look nasty, brutal. he wouldn’t want to switch places with her any time. ❝ i’m going to clean the blood off you, alright? it’ll probably sting like a B I T C H, though. ❞ he holds up a wet washcloth for her to see before stretching his free hand out. truth be told, he doesn’t expect her to touch him. whatever happened back at the facility left a throbbing pain back in hayden’s chest, reminding him of something alike to a bolt of electricity. she had zapped him hard. ❝ there some clothes for you too. naina brought them... or ava. whatever, they should fit you. ❞
@bcisterous.











