☆彡 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝘇𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿
❛ 'cause someone is out there, and they're sending out flares. ❜
FLARE | NOUN OR ADJECTIVE
a sudden brief burst of bright
flame or light, a sudden burst
of intense...
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Janson looked like a rat.
She had already established that, but Kennedy couldn't help it — when she looked at him, she was reminded of how uncanny it truly was: the pointed nose, the beady eyes, the sharp, nasty teeth.
Janson looked like a rat.
He was also late.
Kennedy huffed, sliding down in her chair and thrumming her fingers against the metal table in a light rhythm.
Officer Kane had brought her to a blue room. Blue walls, blue table, blue chair. Even her clothes were very blue. Kennedy had a feeling it was a medical colour, cleanly, and thus fitting. Their new living arrangements seemed that way inclined — what, with all of the doctors and testing. It vaguely reminded her of the serum that Teresa was sent to the maze with, the sterile looking griever serum that temporarily saved Alby, but the odd coincidence was snatched away when the thoughts were replaced by her grief. Alby.
She missed him.
It had been all of a day, but Kennedy missed him like he'd been gone for years. He was already like a distant memory and Kennedy dreaded the day she could no longer remember the fine details — how he sounded when he spoke, the bad jokes he made, the minor wrinkles by his eyes when he tried not to smile at one of their jokes; the way he walked with pride, the way they fought like cat and dog but still loved each other, nonetheless. Kennedy couldn't fathom all the days that would pass her by without Alby in them. And Chuck, and Gally, and Clint and Jeff. And all the other boys they had lost in their mission to get out of the maze. How did she keep going? Her life got to go on from here, but what about theirs? How was it fair?
