𝙫. 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 ; voices in the darkness.

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v. thirty: ❝ voices in the darkness ❞

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: the mood i'm in/jsyk - the maine

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𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: the mood i'm in/jsyk - the maine

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In the gloom of the subterranean chamber, the air was thick with an oppressive chill that seemed to seep into every corner. Marianna's fingers twisted around the leather of her gloves, her knuckles white with tension. Her gaze, like a moth drawn to the flame, was fixed on the hospital bed a few feet away, where Thomas Shelby lay sprawled and still, his breathing barely perceptible beneath the sheet.

The bed was a stark slab of clinical reality amidst the cold stone walls, and Thomas was a broken figure on it—unresponsive, a mere shell of the formidable man he once was. The dim light flickered ominously above, casting long shadows that danced around the room as if mocking their distress.

Marianna's voice cut through the silence, but it was a distant echo, heavy with a sense of impending dread, her throat feeling as though it was scorched by the very words she spoke. "He's got a fractured skull, concussion, and internal bleeding. It could be a haemorrhage."

Ada's expression softened as she turned away from the harsh lines of Marianna's face. Her eyes, usually so unyielding, now brimmed with a quiet desperation. She shifted her gaze to the doctor, Marianna's old friend, who hovered with a professional yet worried demeanor.

"He was in the war," Ada pleaded, her voice trembling with a mix of urgency and nostalgia. "He was in a tunnel collapse. He won medals...Take care of him..."

The doctor nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. The room was heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and the cold reality of their circumstances, as Marianna's heart clenched with a silent, burning agony, knowing too well the fragility of their once indomitable world.


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Back at Ada's house, the air was thick with unresolved tension as Marianna stood by Karl's door, her heart aching with every breath. Ada, her face a canvas of sorrow and anger, handed Marianna a glass of gin, the amber liquid shimmering like a mirage of false solace.

"He's grown taller since the last time I saw 'im." Marianna murmured, her voice carrying a wistful note as she took in the sight of the boy she'd barely known.

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