M E L O D I C

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"He set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her."

~🎀~

F R E Y A  W A S  in a daze. She didn't know how much time had passed since she had been taken. She hadn't seen anyone. Hadn't even heard so much as the creak of a floorboard.

She slept to pass the time, paced the perimeter of the room when her muscles began to ache from being in one position for too long, and slowly gave up hope with every passing second. She knew they wanted to get at Falcon through her, but it had been days; wouldn't they want him to find her so they could hurt him?

Unless he was already hurt.
But if he was hurt, why was she still here?

Freya shook off her thoughts. She wasn't making any sense. Falcon wasn't hurt. He wouldn't let himself get hurt. Not if her life was on the line. She hoped.

Freya attempted to get up from her seated position against the wall, but without the energy basic food and water provided her, her legs couldn't hold her weight. She dropped her head into her hands, her stomach growling painfully as she tried not to think about how dry her mouth was.

She didn't know how much longer she could do this. How long did it take someone to starve to death? Or to die of dehydration?

Her mind felt fuzzy and when she thought about it for too long, she could feel a migraine begin to pulse behind her eyes.

She could feel her body begin to shut down once again and she let it. Her dreams were the only source of peace she received in that place. The only place she got to see Falcon, Glenn, her father.

God, she hoped someone found her soon.

~🎀~

Falcon was a mess. Four days he'd been searching for her, and he was at a loss. Neither Freya's father nor the police could find any leads on her location and the guilt was eating Falcon alive.

He had taken to taking his frustration out on whatever was closest to him. Most people stayed out of his way when they saw his temper rising as it was now.

Even with the full knowledge that it wouldn't make him feel any better, Falcon smashed a lamp against the closest wall. He needed to hit something. He needed to drive his fist right through his brother's smug face.

Falcon slammed his fist into the wall, the impact making a sickening crack sound from his knuckles. He didn't feel the pain; he couldn't. He just needed to let it out. So he did it again, and again, and again.

"I almost forgot about your hot headed nature with you being gone for so long," Glenn was leaning against the door of the spare bedroom Falcon had chosen to destroy.

Falcon tensed, not bothering to turn around to face the man. He wasn't about to let him see the tracks his tears had made down the sides of his face.
"Not now, Glenn," he almost pleaded.
He heard Glenn sigh behind him before speaking up.

"We all miss her, son," he spoke calmly. "But punching walls isn't going to help get her back."

"Don't you think I know that?" Falcon growled. "I've been looking for her. I haven't fucking slept. I'm trying my god damn hardest to keep it together, so don't fucking attack me for needing a release."

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