Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
♚ ♚ ♚
Time.
It was non-excitant to Everett for so long. It flowed outside this place he has been in, he knew that because of the things that seemed to appear from different time, seemingly to change every time something new came. He knew that peoples lives were long past his.
So, he grew used to not growing, not being able to know what it would be like to be in his twenties, to being able to see stillness of the clocks around him, dead, for they had no reason to live if there was no job to do. He got used to not being able to remember, remember his mothers face, or even if he had a mother, to not being able to remember what it felt like to see the days pass by, not being able to remember the feeling of being surrounded by people who care. Not being able to remember what time had felt like.
There was one thing he refused to forget one thing though, for he had promised it. He had promised it what felt so very long ago, and that was what kept him here, kept him here to survive, to not fully forgot.
It's what kept him here to feel as if unmoving time had slowed down so very fast, only to seem to speed away, leaving Everett behind.
Peter had made many points behind his reasonings, explaining how he had seen his team disappearing into dust, him as well, explained the fight between a very bright grape, and the fear he had felt when he had thought he was going to die.
It was so much.
It was too much.
Everett felt the need to break something, to tear at the walls and scream at the skies, to just do something.
But instead he stood there, feet grounded, eyes wide, and hands shaking. His eyes locked onto the diary where it sat, on the fucking floor forgotten.
Peter, unaware of Everetts deep feelings, believing Everett would be proud, happy even, at the discovery, at some possible way out, or happy at the explanation of why they probably where here. But Peter couldn't be more indefinitely wrong.
