CLICK, CLICK, CLICK. rhythmic echoes. silence surrounds her, deafening void shattered by a pair of stilettos. weapons on her feet, they were. as she neared, the silence lessened, the air growing fuller. tongue tastes familiarity. a gentle trickle, at first. one more step ! and it crashes into her, a tsunami of memory barreling through pointed composure. hand hesitates to the door of her office. oh, jesus fuck. of all the people -- god, why, why. a moment, and another. walk through the fucking door, emma. now. she lets it creak open, ever so slowly, heels remaining glued in place. the door, the silence, the still. i hate everything.
–––––––– ❛ look what the cats dragged in. i keep telling them not to bring rotten things into my office, but they never learn, do they ?? ❜ words, aggressive. voice, coos. is she joking ?? not even god, nor devil knows.
// @thndrd
