Maybe The Dead
Warning: Contains talk of abuse, and heavily implied sexual assault/rape
like this. Blueten cracked open the door, made her way carefully to the base of the stairs.
Her double, another Blueten, was sitting on the bottom of the steps, face buried in her hands. She was sobbing.
No, it’s not me. Blueten blinked and the Blueten on the stairs vanished. It was Tora Zollun, curled up and crying softly. His Soundlessness was slipping again. She could feel his confusion, anguish, fear, despair.
“She hates me.” He didn’t even look up at her. Did he know she was there? “I messed up and now she hates me.”
Blueten carefully sat beside him on the stairs, and looked out, away from him. She couldn’t look at him. Her mind was racing, her heart was pounding. She didn’t like this. He wouldn’t stop crying.
She cautiously loosened the strings to her mask, pulled it away from her face, and nudged him with it.
“Wh-Wha?”
She nudged him again and he gingerly took it from her grasp. He then gently fitted the misshapen thing over his face and just sat with her on the stairs, the two of them staring out into nothing. She wasn’t sure how long they sat there. They didn’t look at each other, didn’t even touch. He just kept crying and then eventually… stopped. It was silent.
It was silent for awhile.
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