Headache || Wriothesley

8

The door to the interrogation room groaned on its hinges, shattering the oppressive silence that hung in the air. Wriothesley strode in, his entrance heralded by the ominous echo of his polished boots against the cold, metal floor. He was flanked by two guards, their faces etched with stern lines that spoke of years of unwavering duty. The mere sight of him sent a shiver skittering down Y/n's spine.

The guards took their positions by the door, their towering presence casting long, intimidating shadows that danced on the walls. Wriothesley stood before Y/n, his gaze piercing through her. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, each beat echoing the fear coursing through her veins.

"Leave us," Wriothesley ordered, his voice echoing in the dimly lit room. The guards hesitated for a moment before nodding and exiting the room, their departure leaving behind an unsettling quiet. 

The moment the door closed behind them, Wriothesley's stern facade crumbled. His shoulders sagged and he ran a weary hand through his hair, a sigh slipping past his lips. He turned to look at Y/n, his eyes softening with a concern that seemed out of place.

"Y/n," he began, his voice softer now. "What happened?"

Y/n swallowed hard, struggling to find her voice. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She felt like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to do or say.

Wriothesley's eyes never left her as he waited patiently for her to collect her thoughts.

"I'm sorry," she finally managed to whisper.

"For what?"

"For... everything," she replied, her voice trembling like a leaf in the wind. "For disobeying your orders, for getting into trouble, for..." Her voice trailed off as tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

Stop. Stop. Stop. Don't cry you stupid idiot.

Wriothesley frowned and walked over to her, his steps echoing in the quiet room. He sat down next to her, his presence a comforting warmth in the cold room.

"It's okay," he reassured her gently. "Tell me what happened."

Y/n sniffled and took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort. "I saw... a body," she said quietly.

"A body?" Wriothesley echoed.

"Yeah," Y/n confirmed, her voice shaking as if she were reliving the horrifying moment all over again. "In the arena. It..."

"I know," Wriothesley cut her off gently, his voice filled with understanding. "I know."

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "So you know who-"

He shook his head, cutting her off once again. "I don't. But we'll find out."

Y/n nodded, a silent promise to help him with the investigation. She trusted him, and that trust was reflected in her eyes.

Wriothesley let out a tired sigh and got up, the chair creaking as he pushed it back. His gaze roamed over Y/n's body, finally coming to rest on her thighs. He noticed the fingernail marks and a terrifying thought crossed his mind, sending a jolt of fear through him. His heart constricted painfully in his chest.

"Did anyone touch you?"

Y/n blinked. "Huh?"

"Did anyone touch you?" Wriothesley repeated, his eyes locked onto her thighs, every line on his face etched with deep concern.

Y/n shook her head, misunderstanding his concern for her thigh bruises as a concern for her shoulder. She instinctively touched her shoulder, recalling the guard's iron grip from earlier. "No, they didn't. The guard was just really strong, that's all."