AGENT PINK.
[ @ajanuary ]
“So, you’d you get as a roomie?” Pink asked, casually dropping down onto Mica’s bed, propping herself up onto her forearms as she looked around the dormitory room.
She was so glad they were locked into the London headquarters and not any other place of the agency - she actually lived here and she was forced to sleep with anyone else. Roommates could be fun in college, but she liked her privacy here. She wasn’t sure if she could actually sleep if she’d have to worry if the person sleeping in the same dorm room would be stabbing her while her eyes were closed.
“You know, if you ever want to get away from dearest roommate and all that, you can always visit me in my room,” she offered, her voice teasing, her eyes running up and down Mica’s body. “I’ve got a very comfortable bed.”
everything here at headquarters is uniform. bleak. drab. minimalist. every bit the office environment it isn’t — all standard issue and neat corners, industrial lights ( one of which is flickering in the corner and slowly driving her into the throes of madness ) only making being stuck here all the more vexing. mic doesn’t do STUCK. she’s never liked the feeling of a corner pressing into each of her shoulder blades. they drag a match down the flint of her nerves, sparking up something wild that will lash out, bare its teeth and sink into flesh once it feels trapped. she much prefers to be the one who has control, is descending upon prey and leaving it with nowhere else to go but the confines of adjacent walls joining in one single point.
if she’s got to be here, she likes it to be on her own volition. this is far from it.
the standard issue mattress dips underneath the weight of pink joining her on the bed, mic’s eyes fixed on the ceiling above while she ruminates about the severity of punishment for breaking a window or maneuvering her way into the vents for a goddamn moment of solitude. roommate, her mind mulls over, like it’s an expletive. lockdown is bad enough, but for the donahues to be treating the aftermath of agent light’s... well, predicament, as though it’s the perfect opportunity for some company team building, stuffed full with randomized roommates and forced socialization? it’s someone’s death sentence. she’s yet to figure out whose.
“ugh,” micaela groans as pink reminds her of the roommate ordeal. “i don’t know yet. is it wishful thinking, hoping it’s light?” her voice cracks as it shifts up an octave, her attempt to be airy and joking only halfway delivering as her frustrations break through. “to be fair, though, i’ve been avoiding this room since our mandatory viewing. i like delaying the inevitable when i can.” she pushes herself up on her elbows at the suggestion, the corners of her mouth pulled taut in an amused smirk. “what an offer,” she ribs back, alight eyes mirthful. “i knew you’d missed my winning personality while i was away. can’t deny it now, it’s already out in the universe.” micaela adjusts herself, rolling the weight of the upper half of her body from one planted elbow to another. “been keeping busy lately?”
