annabel - d9 - work in progress

Theres a room where the light won't find you
Holding hands while the walls come tumblin' down
When they do, i'll be right behind you
So glad we almost made it

The rope feels tight in my hands as I pull it tighter together, my hands calloused and still somehow burning from the strain of wringing the monster between my fingers. The edges of my nails somehow keep getting caught between the individual threads, the bitten nature of them just perfect to get caught on nearly anything. It angers me, the tedious nature of having to untangle my fingers from between the braids.


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faceclaim - clair quirk
words - 581
template - ella