𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓
HERE'S THE BULK OF THE IRONY: for having a surname like Lovelace, Chantara had never understood the feeling of love. To care for another human without any strings attached. It was something she never seemed to grasp, becau...
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TARA STUMBLED OUT THE WHITE DOOR. There's a discomfort in her chest, a feeling in her brain like excess caffeine... then it sets deeper. She feel the urge to run, escape, hide. It's no different than when she was a child fearing the belt, the slipper or whatever Father came to beat her with. The brain doesn't understand the passage of time, doesn't know how old the trauma is, or how old she is. In her youth she thought adults must be so sorted out in their head, but that wasn't true at all. She was the same person that she was then, just with more mileage on the clock. The panic grown stronger into the day as her mental faculties start to give away to emotions. She wanted to jump right out of her skin and join the nether. Tara felt just like a child again, shaking, terrified. The constricted feeling grew, and she was strangled by the air.
She heard Four mutter something under his breath as the door slammed shut behind her. As a computer can be overloaded, so can your brain. There's a finite processing capacity and when your ability to process fear is exceeded, panic begins. For Tara, it had almost been too much. Every single frame of her simulation flew around in her head, a tornado stirring her emotions uncontrollably and she felt as if the air was poison.
"Ahh..." His voice was ice, cold and slippery. "Took you long enough."
Her gaze darted from the floor, meeting his stale grey eyes. The bright light from the ceiling reflected off the piercing that cut through his eyebrows. Tara squinted. "What do you want?" She asked, feeling her spine turn rigid.
He made a noise that sounded a lot like disappointment. "Follow me," Eric said, nodding his head over his shoulder. "I need to have a word with you."
Out of instinct, she shook her head.
"No?"
She leaned her weight back. "No."
"It wasn't a question, Initiate." His eyebrows pinched together on his forehead and she wondered if it hurt with the piercing.
"Answer's still no."
"Are you serious?"
She scoffed. "Are you?"
"Do you really think you have a choice?" He was mocking her now.
"I'd like to think that," Tara said, giving her best effort to sound confident. She felt overly aware of her arms as they shifted from being crossed over her chest to hanging by her side. "I don't want to talk to you. Not sure if I'll ever be in that mood, but why don't you try again later?"
