CANDIED WIRES.

one

Foot steps could be heard from the upstairs. Some were panicked, and quick to catch. Some were faint, as if the person from above contemplated.

Which, was just that.

There paced a man, in nothing but dirtied dress clothes. The tie was pulled, and twisted, leaving it's original position loose among his neck. The collar had one flap up, one flap down. His thick material coat, along with the dress shirt, sported many spots of muddled and wrinkles.

His clammy hands shook with anxiety, and fear.

She can't leave.

Each time he had an intake of air, the exhale afterwards was strained.

She can't leave.

Each time those shaken hands attempted to tame the matted strands of brunette, it'd leave the hairs more askew.

She's not leaving.

The same similar, reassuring words were repeated. Mumbled, or within his mind. There were faint noises downstairs of some sort of bag zipping, and even muffled sobs. The walls were not so thick for sound proof, so any noises made from either level was to be heard.

With a few coughs, the anxious male lowered himself at the foot of the bed. Clammy hands clasped together, chapped lower lip bitten. A few moments of brief brainstorming were made.

Till the solution had finally came to mind, drastic, but effective.

She won't.