𝐒𝐮𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞- a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant or that has been loved then lost. "The love that remains."
a love between a hopeless girl and a hopeless boy.
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Today was just another day, the same monotonous grind that everyone else seemed to thrive on.
Runners darted around like ants, cooks bustled in the kitchen, and builders like me were stuck with the same old tasks.
I was trying to piece together a new structure, some half-baked idea that probably wouldn’t hold up under the slightest pressure.
The wood was splintered, the nails bent, and I could feel the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. It was just typical, really.
Nothing ever changes.
But today felt... different. It wasn’t the weather; it was something in the air, a tension that prickled at my skin.
I couldn’t shake this gnawing sensation that something was off. My gut twisted like a coiling snake, and every sound seemed amplified, echoing in my ears.
I glanced around at the others, their faces blissfully unaware of the storm brewing just beneath the surface.
It made me feel even more alone, trapped in my own spiraling thoughts.
Then, there were the notes.
They started appearing out of nowhere, always in the same scrawled handwriting, warning of ‘the day of doom.’ What kind of sick joke was this? “It’s near,” they said. “You need to be careful.”
The messages were relentless, each one a dagger of paranoia driving deeper into my mind.
I couldn’t just ignore them; I had to share them with the few who understood the weight of the words—Gally, Frypan, Dextor, Alby, and Newt. They’d get it. But Minho?
He was out in the maze, doing who knows what. I couldn’t shake the feeling that his absence meant trouble.
As I hammered away at the structure, the sound of metal against wood became a chaotic rhythm, echoing the chaos in my mind.
Every creak of the boards made my heart race, and I could almost hear the whispers of the notes, taunting me.
“The maze is not a game. Don’t be reckless.” It felt like a warning, a dark omen that clung to the air like a fog.
I could almost see shadows lurking just beyond my line of sight, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
The anxiety was suffocating, wrapping around me like a heavy blanket.
