@vxicefromhighpoint
Gryff barely even remembered how he got to his chambers — must’ve found the way instinctively, he guessed, since his mind was in no working condition. Shock seemed to have blurred his sense of reality — the sights, the sounds, even his own thoughts mixed into one big mess. He got out alive — something he never expected to happen — but what was he supposed to do now was beyond him. He had no plan prepared for this outcome & even if he did — there was no strength left in him to execute it. Had he really gone the full circle? Did all the struggle, & pain, & loss lead him to this — back to being nothing but his brother’s plaything, there for Torrhen to hurt & humiliate as he pleased?..
In his room, Gryff simply sat down at the edge of his bed & remained there, silent, unmoving, hands clasped together & eye staring down. He felt the sickening smell of drying blood, the pain in his head, limbs, the whole body, but had no energy to try & observe the damage or seek help. What for, if it probably wouldn’t be long before Torrhen would seek him out for another session of fun?..
He sat like that for an indefinite period of time — the pain & noise in his head made it hard to tell for how long exactly. Minutes, or hours — it was like he drifted somewhere between darkness & consciousness, barely even aware of reality around himself. What brought Gryff somewhat back into this world was the sound of steps, the feeling of another’s presence behind his back. He made no effort to turn around & check who the visitor was. He simply did not have that in himself anymore.
“ . . . What? ” Was the only thing he could say. Man’s voice wasn’t pained, or scared, or angry — it was hollow & low, like his very life energy had been sucked out. It truly did not matter to him who had come to see him, and what their intentions were.
Not like anything — or one — could make a difference now.
