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Summary
The fabric across his eyes was soft as silk, a stark contrast to the ropes that bound his wrists.
The rope pinched at the delicate flesh while the hard floor pressed into his knees. He was far too old for this, and the ache settling in his lower back was an unyielding reminder of it. They had been at this for what felt like hours. The wait was brutal, his skin felt too tight, his mind on edge, legs and back aching, arms going numb, but the worst ? The worst was how empty he was.(Alastor isnt even mentioned by name in this so you could technically imagine anyone, his hands and voice are just described.)
