[ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] (But make it a hallucination) "No one came to save you. You didn't escape. I let you go. They all left you to rot. Especially him. He knew. He knew the entire time. It's all his fault. Gonna be a doormat forever, Drakos?"
Saturn lays flat on his bed in the dark of his room over top his blankets. Shot, red eyes stare into the ceiling and hands interlock fingers to fold politely across his chest. So still, the boy looks ready for his coffin.
4 days, 6 hours, and... he turns his head slightly to look to the clock on his nightstand, then back to the ceiling... 17 minutes. This long since he first looked at the time when returned back to his home. Back at Wammy's House.
His first three nights were spent in the infirmary. This would be his first night back in his own room. His shared room, actually. With Umbral.
Back in the same room he shares with that traitor. Where everything reminds him of all the times he loved and trusted a back stabber. An accomplice to his life's worst suffering.
How could they do this to him, placing him back in that same room as if nothing had happened? How could he do this to him, after all they've been through and still siding with that sick fuck?
He gets a little angrier, the visual snow above him a little stronger, as a voice rings in his eardrums like he's got those headphones back clamped around his ears,
"No one came to save you. You didn't escape. I let you go. They all left you to rot. Especially him. He knew. He knew the entire time. It's all his fault. Gonna be a doormat forever, Drakos?"
He sits up suddenly in a heated pant, throws himself off the bed, and snatches a pair of scissors from off his desk while the cup previously holding them knocks over and falls to the ground with the rest of its contents. The bed next to his creaks at the weight of his body pouncing upon it rabidly.
Blades sink in to the soft cloth of his roommates pillow. Once, twice, three times as the innards spill forth out of it. The blankets and mattress too are unsafe from attack as Saturn stabs and stabs and stabs into those next, ripping into the fabric as though it were a hunting knife to the belly of a fresh carcass.
It's lucky there is no body inside, as the usual inhabitant is away for his usual night classes. Though lucky might still be a bit of an overstatement.
The weapon is tossed to the side as he throws off the pillow, followed by the blankets, to be strewn across the room. Still worked up, he gets to his feet and throws off the mattress from its bed frame too.
Finally, he storms out of the room with a slam of the door, back to the infirmary incredibly tensed, and demands both more sleep aide and refuge for the night again. It is just too soon, and he isn't ready.
That was his room first. Umbral tainted it. Umbral tainted everything.
As he lays back down on the cot, he makes eye contact with the clock before staring back up at the ceiling while waiting for his eyes to drift and droop closed.
4 days, 7 hours, and 9 minutes since he has been returned.
It has been about 5 minutes since Saturn's last outburst.
And a long, uncountable amount of time since he's gotten a decent night's rest.
