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Pin's head ached from constantly trying to break free from her confinement in the place of exclusion. Literally. Because Coiny was using her, slamming her point into the door, she was starting to get a migraine. Pin wanted to give up and stay here, or at least for them to stop slamming her against the wall. But for some reason, everyone thought she was more useful this way than simply slamming her fists into the door. So she had to endure it. It irritated her, so much so that she'd forgotten how she enjoyed poking everything and everyone with her point, like a primal echo of her nature. Now, she just wanted the nightmare to end.
She was glad that periodically, the one "tormenting" her could, through the power of words (and a little brazenness), get a break for them, allowing them to go downstairs and rest in their rooms. But Pin was never in hers. Coiny always found a reason for her to stay in his room, whether it was the closer door or the more comfortable bed. And in moments when she was particularly ill and unable to resist, he led her directly inside. Then, as soon as she lay down on the bed, whose softness she couldn't compare to anything else, she would fall into long-awaited sleep.
But usually, it wasn't so easy. The pain prevented her from truly relaxing. And then Coiny took matters into his own hands. After he made sure Pin was comfortable on a pile of pillows he plundered from various rooms, he sat close to the top of her bed and gently began stroking it. She instantly became embarrassed, but didn't dare complain. Under his palms, the pain evaporated, relief set in, and Pin could breathe freely. He gently ran his hands over her, slowly approaching the point. When they touched the sensitive metal, a shudder ran through her body. It seemed best to leave the sore spot alone, but Coiny managed to stroke it with such care that Pin found it surprisingly pleasant. Sure, he was careless at times, managing to poke himself on the sharp end, but he didn't show it. But mostly, she had to admit, this ritual brought her pleasure. So much so that it became difficult for her to think, and even more difficult to control her speech. She casually confessed how much she enjoyed being in his room, how she considered the whole idea of escaping stupid and a waste of time.
How she wished she could stay here with him and simply live together, without thinking about the game, about disasters, or any other new danger. Just her, him, and an endless vacation. Coiny chuckled softly at her words, and she thought she heard embarrassment in it. Sometimes he replied that she was simply very tired; he didn't seem to think she was serious. Pin didn't have the power to argue with him, despite really wanted to, as her eyes were already closing and her consciousness was slipping away. Maybe next time he'll understand.