｛ window into the soul ｝
a type of panic ensues. she looks upon the engraving of ink that scars her wrist as opposed to complimenting it, as was perhaps intended, and there is nothing but a species of fear that is dripped into the water of her soul, kept intact by its chalice. such water is pure, though only for the fact that it is her and is infested by no other, if such an ability to inject parasite into her stars & space even exists. she thought of it as kin to the snow, at least, until very recent days. a span of just a few, in which she'd arrived in such ・・・ an odd place.
it has been tainted by the smoke of another. not possession, but rather everything of both physical and contrary form is felt by her. a slightly vague aching that throbs, constantly, neverending. this is no doubt the belongings of another; yet this person is alive, living, breathing, continues to consume and digest the oxygen of the world naturally, walks amongst the earth. this is no haunting. supernatural, indeed; some form of magic.
perhaps caused by the entwining lines, elegant nonetheless, that is an imprinted bracelet on her. if she were to remove this, would this presence leave her? she does not know. madotsuki knows to take no risks.
the person who matches her unwanted decorations sits 'cross the room from her, and under the thin layers of blankets she brings over her as unique shell 'nd cover, she peeks out with both eyes. barely opened, they are, and exposing hypertropia is foolish moreso than that of opposite action ― is initial thought, anyhow. it produces nothing but blurriness in her leftmost vision and is generally useless, and of course she holds quite the shame for it. but this one ・・・ if their wrists matched each other ( she takes a look at hers for a moment before setting eyesight back upon the other, un-expertly hidden amongst her makeshift protection ), then that would be her partner ・・・ they know what she feels. they probably already know of her condition ・・・
the courage is mustered after a swell interval of one more thirty minutes, and with her hideousness that is her eyeballs exposed to the only other being that occupies this room, she shifts and straightens herself a bit to look upon the other.
her nervousness ・・・ obvious. well, that is no doubt ― did they not feel everything she felt as well? she speculates, without much question to herself, that it will become natural thought soon enough that they indeed do, but for now she must keep to reminding herself.
one eye pointing in an odd and certainly unnatural direction, madotsuki stares.