─=≡Σ((( つ•̀ω•́)つ
julia came to the wrong neighborhood.
Riley’s bowl looked so pitiful when empty. Something inside the prisoner felt bone-deep sadness, the dog’s pouting doing little to calm whatever passed for empathy within her.
The operation would be risky, of course.
Merrick still hadn’t officially cleared her to be in the kitchen, still fearing she might slip some cleaning agent into the Stalker food supply, but it was easier to fill the deep bowl in the industrial sink rather than the shallow bathroom counterparts. Humming to herself, it seemed as though the clandestine op would be a success. The bowl was almost full, and would surely bring a spring back to the pup’s step--
How long had the door been swinging?
Freezing, Julia could only just register the bowl overfilling, water running over her hand. Something akin to trepidation strangled the base of her spine. She had no desire to be alone with any of the men on this base, knew Keegan and Hesh to be out behid the wall--
Feet. The only thing she can register before impact is that someone is throwing their everything into pumping their legs as fast as they can manage.
The bowl goes flying into the far wall, water coating the tile from top to bottom. With a low shriek of indignation, the Russian hit the floor, scrambling to claw away from whatever -- whomever -- had collided with her.