Headache || Wriothesley

4

The following morning, Y/n woke up feeling refreshed. She had slept like a log and had no complaints. The mattress had been surprisingly comfortable. She could feel her strength returning as she sat up in bed and stretched her limbs.

"Wait a minute," she thought, "Did I just compliment the dusty old mattress?"

She looked around the room, her gaze settling on the pile of dirt and filth on the floor. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Maybe her standards had dropped to Wriothesley's level.

Y/n stood up, dusting off her clothes, and walked towards the small sink in the corner of the room. She splashed some cold water on her face, trying to wake herself up. She had a long day ahead of her and she needed to be alert.

"Good morning, sunshine!" she announced to the room, spinning around to make sure all of Wriothesley's hidden microphones got her message. "Another beautiful day in paradise," she added sarcastically, gesturing to the damp metal walls and cracked ceiling.

She saluted the hidden cameras and slammed the door behind her as she left the room. 

The cafeteria was bustling with activity as Y/n entered, her gaze sweeping the room for Darius. She spotted him at a table in the corner, chatting with another inmate. She made her way over to him, weaving through the crowds of prisoners.

"Morning," she greeted, sliding into the empty seat beside him.

Darius gave her a friendly smile. "Hey Y/n," he replied. "Sleep well?"

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh yeah, like a baby on a pile of dirt and filth."

"Well, if it helps," Darius offered, "you're not the only one sleeping in less than ideal conditions."

"That's comforting," Y/n sighed. "But I'll have you know, I'm not giving up hope yet. Maybe if I ask the guards nicely, they'll give me a fluffy pillow."

Darius laughed, "I wouldn't get your hopes up. But hey, miracles happen."

"Thanks," Y/n deadpanned, picking up a fork and poking at the purple slop on her plate. "This looks... appetizing."

Darius took a bite of his food, making a face. "Don't worry," he assured her, "it tastes as bad as it looks."

Y/n smirked, "Then why are you eating it?"

"Survival, my dear," Darius answered in a matter-of-factly tone. "I'd rather not die of malnutrition."

"Fair point," Y/n conceded, her gaze thoughtful. Suddenly, she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Hey, Darius. What do you think would happen if I got in trouble and asked the Duke for a room upgrade?"

Darius stiffened, his gaze darting around the cafeteria. "Shhh!" he hissed. "Don't say that so loud. You'll get us both in trouble."

Y/n rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "I was only joking," she said, her tone dismissive.

"Well, don't," Darius warned, his voice serious. "I don't want to be labeled as-" He paused and shook his head.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "As what?" she prodded, her tone teasing.

Darius sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice weary. "Just... be careful, okay?"

Y/n grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "So... the rumors are true?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Darius' expression darkened. "There's a lot you don't know, Y/n," he said, his voice grave.

Y/n shrugged nonchalantly. "Well for what it's worth, I think you'd make an excellent rebel leader. And I'm totally with you guys, no matter what."