(the messages pin him to the bed with a knead of fingers into the corners of his eyes, breath shaking as his body expels the horrible worry that paves the way for relief. thank god — 'thank god,' something felt so powerfully his mind offers it up to the empty text field awaiting a true response, something he deletes before drafting something new — connor doesn't know what he would've done if his concern wasn't volleyed back at him.
he sits up with the knowledge that that's exactly the crime he's committed by ignoring markus' notifications... even if he has no recollection of the past ten days.)
I'm okay.
(not enough.)
I'm in my room. I'm experiencing some discomfort in my chest, but nothing else seems to be the matter. There's the amnesia, but - that's to be expected after the accounts of the other trafficking victims. Right?
the old man can't take this kind of stress
he sits up with the knowledge that that's exactly the crime he's committed by ignoring markus' notifications... even if he has no recollection of the past ten days.)
I'm okay.
(not enough.)
I'm in my room. I'm experiencing some discomfort in my chest, but nothing else seems to be the matter. There's the amnesia, but - that's to be expected after the accounts of the other trafficking victims. Right?