Chapter Text
In this hellish landscape he is stuck. Stuck in her head, in her memories. Cacophonous and echoing in his head. Her shelter (was this really how she lived for 14 years?) is dark and confining. He can hear a sandstorm raging outside. The burnt sienna interior is slowly cooling, and frustration is rapidly gathering in concordance with the sand covering the door outside. She has dealt with this a thousand times, so what is a thousand and one? But the pressure in her throat isn’t abating and is clawing its way out of her in a strangled howl. The following silence mocks her by swallowing up the noise; leaving behind a dead space that grows and grows until he can feel her girdled in on all sides.
Drinking money.