While celebrating her birthday, Louise and her friend recklessly decide to give her the ultimate present: a meet-and-greet with the Avengers. In the middle of the night.
But one thing leads to another, and Louise is thrown into a strange world of ma...
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I woke up, my head now on the one side of the mattress and my feet on the other. Beside my breathing, the hallway was silent. Even the usually loud inmates in the other cells had been lulled asleep, and the man on my right too.
His cell was nothing like the others. He had an actual bed, with pillows and covers. While he had a wooden table to place his things on, his books were piled everywhere on the ground. It was strange to see such a decorated space, since it made it look like an actual room and less like a prison cell.
I, on the other hand, had one simple mattress and that already seemed like a privilege compared to the plain, stuffed cells next to me. I sat up, looking down at myself. My jeans were dirty and I only now noticed the hole in my white shirt. I pouted and poked my finger through.
Then I bent down to untie my Timberlands, the ones my dad had sent me all the way from England, and tossed them in a random direction. He never told me why he kept sending me stuff, he just did. Probably because he constantly worried about me. Wiggling my toes, I lay back down with a huff. The moon was probably out on Earth by now (Earth, that felt weird to say) but I didn't even know if it turned dark at night in this place. I missed him. I regretted not calling him every now and then.
"Do you mind mourning in silence? Some of us are trying to sleep."
My body reacted on its own, quickly shifting to the side to face the voice. The black-haired man was no longer resting, and now sitting on the edge of his bed with an annoyed frown. A few of the curly strands of his hair were standing up, the bags underneath his eyes more apparent than I had noticed before.
"Sorry?" The statement came out more like a question, and I sweared I could see him roll his eyes.
"Just be quiet." He then went back to his original position on his back, leaving me without a view of him because of the height difference between our beds.
"Someone has been locked up for too long." I muttered, turning back on my other side. But the idea of the criminals in that cage watching me made my hair stand up, so I turned back to the annoyed man. When I realised that he wasn't as interesting either I moved to stare at the plain roof, crossing and uncrossing my legs a few times. Then I grabbed my pillow from under my head and pressed it against my face, groaning. I didn't want to be here. Was that obvious?
Then I heard a loud, bothered sigh. I glanced back to my right from underneath the pillow, and noticed two elbows sticking out above the bed. He had his hands planted in his face. I hid a smile. Looked like neither of us was going back to sleep.
