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reborrowing · 1 year

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a mouse in the basement part 5 /6? (probably 7)

this is a project to prompt me to make sentences for a conlang. here are 2200 words exclusively in English.

First | prev | ao3

Kíkítok masterpost | AMITB Translations

Someone slips up and David takes the opportunity to make an escape attempt before he runs out of time. word count: ~2200 taglist: @whumpsday (comment/dm if you'd like to be added please) contents: captivity, injury, restraints, manhandling, fear, gun, alcohol, alcohol abuse, assault/violence, threat of death, suicide discussion (no actual suicide occurs/occured), drug mention, eye trauma (definitely non-graphic). I think that’s it. Confrontation Time :)

Time passed slower when David was alone. Kiwi had offered him a brief break where things happened and time had meaning. He knew that the room darkened for a while as the sun set and he had lost track of how many times it happened. As he waited for something to happen again, he fell in and out of sleep at what felt like random intervals to dream of escape and better times. He knew he had fallen asleep several times since Kiwi left, but the kidnapper had yet to bring him breakfast to signal the next morning.

Silent light filtered through the narrow window and David woke up suffocating on an afterimage of his mother beside an empty grave.

How much time had to pass before they assumed he was dead? Before they gave up?

He stood up and paced to get away from the thought. The chain laughed along behind him, reminding him that it was inevitable unless he found a way to do something and get out.

He could imagine all sorts of very cool scenarios in which he overpowered the masked man that held him here, but he was a little too practical to believe in any of them. He was a head shorter than his captor and his fighting experience ranged from getting his nose broken on the playground and being mediocre at Mortal Kombat. He didn’t see either of those holding up too well, even if his unbound hands gave him the advantage of surprise.

The door rattled open and David quickly smoothed the duct tape back over his mouth and held his hands behind his back. A weight settled in his chest as he realized he would have to overpower the stranger now or go back to those chains. He couldn’t work himself free, that had been Kiwi’s doing. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know how to fight. He couldn’t.

Several bits of metal clattered down the stairs, either spilled change or dropped keys. Most lost their momentum halfway through, but a couple bounced off the sides and clinked onto the cement floor below.

His captor thumped down the stairs and David stiffened and pretended he hadn’t noticed anything strange, instead watching the other man descend. It was a pointless bluff. The man stopped about midway down the stairs to bend down and pick up his scattered belongings. His eyes flashed at David and he retreated, closing the door with a sudden slam.

David stared, not sure if he could believe it. His captor hadn’t spent any time on mind games so far, but…

He waited a little longer, just to be sure the man wasn’t coming back, and crept towards where he heard the uncollected keys fall. He found three, all small and silver, all with mismatched teeth. He could reach two of them.

He couldn’t be that lucky.

His captor wouldn’t have left that key behind.

David forced the first key into the padlock around his ankle and, unsurprisingly, it didn’t fit.

Obviously.

But he couldn’t not try the other one.

His heart skipped when the lock clicked open. He was glad for the duct tape back over his mouth because it kept him silent as he pulled the padlock open and the chain fell to the ground. He rubbed his chafing ankle. He felt like he was breathing helium, he was so light.

He was almost free.

He was still here in the dark, but he didn’t have to be. There was still the kidnapper lurking upstairs, standing between David getting back to his life. But David would be an idiot not to try to get away.

He stood. It took every ounce of willpower not to break into a run. He took a long, slow breath and carefully snuck up the stairs. He waited for several long seconds (at least) at the door, listening for signs of someone on the other side and hearing no one. He tried the door and it opened with a small creak.

Sun filtered through the curtains on a beautiful white back door. David covered his mouth to smother the victorious relief and continued his slow creep forward. Something fell to the floor in the room to his right and David pressed himself against the counter as his heart jumped into his throat. He pulled a knife off the countertop and held it with a white-knuckle grip. He doubted he would be quick enough to use it if it came to that.

David recognized the kidnapper’s voice as he muttered to himself. He was somewhere just on the other side of the wall. The voice didn’t seem to be getting any closer. David held his breath.

There was a loud thud, like someone punching a wall. David moved faster until the kidnapper raised his voice.

“What is wrong with you? Is that all you know how to say?”

David froze.

Kiwi?

He couldn’t leave her with this guy.

Well… he could. The door was right there. And, apology or not, she had already left him behind. A part of David still wasn’t even sure that she was real and not just some strange coping mechanism.

“What were you doing down there? What are you?” the kidnapper demanded.

David skulked back towards the doorway to peek into the next room, just barely leaning past the wall. The living room was nearly as sparse as the kitchen. Everything was centered around an old couch, angled in such a way that the occupant wasn’t faced towards the kitchen, but would be able to see it out of the corner of his eye if he thought to look. In front of the couch was a coffee table, bare except for a quarter-full bottle of whiskey and a small bundle of duct tape.

The man there was unmasked, a large but otherwise generic white man in his early 30’s. It was obviously the brute that had been feeding David in the basement. He slammed a hand down beside the duct tape and it shivered with the same broken squeal Kiwi had made when David had grabbed her.

David’s stomach flipped. He stepped forward and spoke up to demand the stranger let Kiwi go. He did it without thinking, without even bothering to catch what words he was using. His brain didn’t catch up with his mouth until the man’s barely-focused eyes landed on him, making him flinch back towards the kitchen.

“No, no, get back here,” the man said, picking up a pistol. “Sit down. You’re not going anywhere.”

The gun’s safety clicked as the man waved it towards a spot on the carpet on the other side of the table. David opened his mouth to argue, to fight back, and his resistance died when the unsteady barrel found its mark across the room.

“Man, shit. I knew I shoulda counted, I was just…shit. How the hell did you train this thing to steal keys for you? I snapped its leg and it still won’t even sit still for me,” he said.

David’s face twisted in revulsion. His gaze remained fixed on the gun, not even willing to blink, but he could hear Kiwi crying on the table in front of him, apologizing over and over again. He soured over with guilt.

“No, not important,” the man slurred.” Clock’s ticking. I’m supposed to-to—fuck this. You ever had to clean up a mess a client or someone makes? Probably, right? You work hospitality or whatever you call it. Hotels. Customer service is always a bitch.”

The dark barrel wavered in the man’s unsteady hand and retreated towards the edge of the table. It was still ready to fire as he reached over to pour himself another glass. David wondered just how full that bottle had been when the man sat down. He watched intently, trying to gauge how impaired the man was—if he was slow enough that David could grab the gun.

That would still leave him in the same predicament as before. He’d never held a gun. The man might be drunk and slow, but he was big and probably wouldn’t take too kindly to having his weapon stolen. David had survived this long on cooperation, right? He did like the idea of this guy not having a gun, though.

“One of your coworkers has a real rich aunt, you know? Something Kim? They’re close enough to bet she’d give up a good ransom for him, too. Good enough to find someone like me to make him disappear. So I do my job just fine, nice and clean, but she ignores us once my partner gets in touch. Dumb bitch, right? Blocks us once he starts sending pictures even. Except it turns out the client’s a fucking idiot. Pointed me at you.

“Partner says he dealt with the client, sorted out our payout, but I’m still stuck with you. And every day you’re messing, there’s a chance someone finds a clue that points them in the right direction. To me, you know? I’m pretty good, I’m clean, I look normal. I’ve got a day job, all that. But you being here’s…it’s bad. So I need you gone, but I don’t…I never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it. So,” the man threw back the rest of his drink with a grimace. “Liquid courage. It’s not helping like it’s supposed to.”

The stranger pouted at him, waiting for pity. It was hard to feel sorry for him, what with Kiwi crying and broken on the table, the gun beside her, not to mention days David had spent in the basement or the task at hand. David took a deep breath and put on a sympathetic face anyway, as if he were dealing with an angry guest and not a killer.

“You could let me go. I don’t know where we are. I couldn’t say anything about you except you’re six-foot-something and have brown eyes. You could just dump me off by a bar or something somewhere and I wouldn’t be your problem anymore, y—”

“Nuh. If I thought I could trust you, I wouldn’t have chained you up. That’s not gonna work for me. Partner’s sending someone to collect you tonight, dead or alive. And the connections my guy knows, you’re gonna want to be dead.”

David swallowed.

The other man tilted his head thoughtfully. He slid his glass back onto the table. Kiwi squeaked as it came to a stop just shy of her hip. She was so helpless there, pinned with just a few pieces of tape.

“But maybe you’d be willing to do it yourself?” the man said

David looked down at the table. The man shook his head and laughed, pulling the gun away. David was left to stare at Kiwi. What little of her could be seen beyond the duct tape looked terrible, shaking and soaked with sweat and tears. David squirmed. The man only found her because she was trying to help him.

“I’m not giving you a gun, I’m only so stupid. But you could send you back downstairs, give you a knife. I might have some oxy laying around somewhere too, if you’re afraid of pain. Rat friend stays with me.”

Heat rose in David’s chest and he had to work to keep the snarl off his face. Why keep her? What did she have to do with anything? Just more bad luck?

“I—Maybe I could try a drink first? Liquid courage, like you said?” David said, voice shaking.

The stranger sagged with relief and laughed. He set the gun back down—now on the couch, well out of David’s reach—and went to refill the glass. Acid rose up his throat as he took the drink and thought about his next move.

He wished he hadn’t dropped the knife in the kitchen.

The stranger raised the bottle for a toast. David nodded grimly and waited for the other man to tilt his head back, then threw the only weapon he had left.

He lunged for Kiwi before he knew if the glass landed or not. He hissed his own apologies as he tore the tape off the table with her still caught within it. She squealed and buried her face in his forefinger as he jerked away from the table.

Shattered glass fell to the floor as the stranger stood. David lingered for only a quick half-second to take in what he’d done. He felt sick. The left half of the man’s face was covered with blood. He pawed at his eye with one hand and groped for the pistol with the other. David pressed Kiwi to his chest and ran.

Half-blind and full-drunk, the stranger missed shot after shot, even at point-blank range.

As David threw himself into the kitchen, a bullet finally landed, just kissing his right arm. He stumbled but kept moving as the stranger staggered after him. David thought his heart stopped at least twice while he fumbled with the lock on the back door and the stranger’s silhouette appeared in the corner of his eye.

Another round of shots rang out as David fell through the door and into a bright, early spring afternoon.

Across the street, a gray-haired woman had been unloading a trunk full of groceries. She heard the gunshots and had frozen with several bags hanging off one arm until the sight of a bloodied, filthy man emerged from her neighbor’s yard. She shouted as she made sense of the scene and rushed David from the sunlight into the safety of her home.

#g/t #giant/tiny #why is the first tag to come up for giant 'giant centipedes'???#g/t writing #borrowers #my writing #a mouse in the basement #oc: david #oc: kiwi #egh i'm kinda self conscious about this one bc I don't drink and it feels obvious but Here it Is!#also I think I did have a couple edits on the lost post not on my main copy cest la vie

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reborrowing · 1 year

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a mouse in the basement, part 3/6(?)

First | prev | Kíkítok masterpost | AMITB Translations

not sure how I feel about finishing here, but the next decent stopping point made everything feel disorganized so...here she is.

David gets no more clues about why he's being held here. Kiwi's determined to make an escape using any means available—but mostly David. tagging - @whumpsday (dm/comment to be tagged please) word count: ~1300 cw: continued captivity blood/injury and restraints, and of course language barrier. nothing new if you've made it this far.

David flinched as the masked man grabbed his chin.

He could name a dozen movies that would tell him his next move was to spit at his captor, or at least offer up a good glare, but he was still afraid of making things worse. He was taken aback when he met the masked man’s eyes. Blue eyes flashed with some realization and the hard anger that permeated the mask loosened into fear.

“Fuck me,” the man muttered, shoving David back.

“What?”

The masked man said nothing, only ripped off a fresh length of tape to use as a gag. He cursed a second time as he gave David a final look before disappearing up the stairs. David slumped against the wall and stared after him, wondering what that was about. His mind was eager to have a new problem to chew on and came up with a host of fantastical answers.

Maybe David was a friend’s relative. Maybe it was love at first sight. Maybe David was some secret Chosen One. It hardly mattered, because none of them got him any closer to home.

Somewhere between fifteen minutes and two hours passed before he noticed Kiwi making her way along the wall towards the stairs. He leaned forward to watch, intrigued that she might be able to climb out of here.

She paced back and forth at the bottom for a while before making a proportionately impressive jump towards the bottom step, but still didn’t clear it. Her hands scrabbled against as she struggled to heave herself over the edge, like a kid who hadn’t quite figured out how to pull themselves out of the pool.

David unsteadily rose to his feet to check on her, but she was upright again before he had shuffled halfway across the room. She sat up, clutching at her side, and stared up at what must seem an endless distance to the door.

He was still a few feet from the stairs when the chain around his ankle pulled suddenly taut, knocking him off balance. Kiwi’s ears perked up, then pressed back in a show of terror. She leaped back to the cement floor and scampered beneath the cover of the floating step. A second passed and she stepped back into view, hands covering her face in embarrassment.

“Ah, I’m sorry, caiyacaiyacosach nábnáb. Hú, David. Tsokay me,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

David wondered if the gag hid his smile or if she could see his face at all from her low vantage point. He squatted down to better meet her gaze, but it was an awkward task with his arms pinned behind his back. It hardly made a difference. She was so little that even bent over, he towered over her.

“Fwo, fí kyírowén, sáqá nat piyískamarus…?”

She sounded uncertain as she trailed off. She leaned against the narrow riser behind her and fiddled with the shoulder strap of her bag as she stared up at David with wide, green eyes. He gave her a wary nod to continue even if he couldn’t understand her.

“Kyépasach pé wun, ah, up-sih-tairs,” she said carefully, shaking her head. Her little eyes glittered as she shifted to point at the handrail. “Ayibíabítú tsú. Fí f-fékyépasaró, nat íchowóts swa páfóts pé hyo tsú páf.”

David shook his head. She had watched the masked man cuff him, hadn’t she? She had to know that he couldn’t do anything to get either of them up the stairs.

If I could get over there, I would’ve already left.

“Pease. Fópóyofiyór téwu. Pokyó you,” she pleaded.

David pulled the chain before the chain clattered taut again. Kiwi flinched at the movement, then her shoulders fell as she put together what he was trying to say. She tilted her head to the side and thought for a moment.

“Íkyekikumi pé krát pen pá? Krát?”

She pointed and David turned to follow it, his eyes landing on the window that she had fallen from last night. He nodded in recognition and Kiwi gave him a split second of a smile.

“Áqámpisi séchi fwé sou de íchowóts tik bó pén,” she said. She held up her bag and pointed back at the window, then mimed dropping something. “Ryó kou só kuh fí íkyekikumi…nat faibaiyasat pískpísk sou de fékyépór pé.”

She gave him a firm nod and another expectant look. David wasn’t sure what she meant, but understood that step one was at the window, at least. He trudged in that direction, but it wasn’t much closer to his anchor point than the stairs.

It was almost as if the person who had kidnapped him wanted to keep him from mounting an escape. Not that David would fit through such a small window, but there could be neighbors out there he could signal to. He didn’t actually know if he was in a populated neighborhood, but he’d imagined it once or twice or so since being dragged down here.

Kiwi sighed as she caught up to him. She leaned herself against the the tight chain that hovered around her chest level.

“Kuh pópama pé séchí sou pá? Wi íkya sou? Pease?” she asked.

She patted her bag several times. David furrowed his brows and leaned closer to…try to take it? Maybe? He wasn’t sure. She staggered back and clutched the pack to her chest as if it were her child. Her lip curled up to show off a teeny-tiny fang as she pressed herself against the wall and shook one hand up towards the window.

“No, krát, hyo krát! Chyawúnén pá? Séchí sou bó hyo krát pá?”

David’s brow furrowed, but he gave her her space and looked back at the window. Grayish light filtered in from an overcast sky. As he stood up, the light caught on something metal stuck in the window frame. He strained against the chain for a better look. It looked like a twisted bit of wire, maybe tied to something, maybe just a bit of poor workmanship by whoever built the house. Maybe it was what Kiwi was after?

He nodded hesitantly. Kiwi tilted her head and considered the short distance between David and the wall. After a minute or so, she ran a hand through her curls and groaned.

“David, hyápén ne. Ma éfamarus mókmók,” she said.

On the last word, she pressed her hands together, mimicking handcuffs. She gestured for David to squat down again. He gave her a skeptical look but lowered himself down. She encouraged him to keep going until his hands rested against the floor. He watched the last of the faint color drain from her face as she stepped forward.

“Rótsusu wun yétsiyétsi ném. Ma…Don’t hurt me.”

David inhaled sharply as she crept close enough to touch. It was much closer than she’d dared to get at breakfast. He froze, afraid that any sudden movement would scare her off—or worse. She disappeared behind his back.

He tensed as sharp little fingers dug into the side of his palm and she pulled herself up onto the cuffs. She weighed an impressive nothing at all. He could almost forget she was there if it wasn’t for the way her furry arm occasionally brushed against his skin as she picked at the cuff.

“Tsokay, ma áyapama. Tsokay?” she called after a long minute.

David cautiously tugged against the restraint. His heart jumped as a metal arm fell away and the cuff clattered against the floor. He laughed behind the gag, then gleefully pulled the duct tape from his face and sucked in a full breath.

“Holy shit, thank you. Did you know you could do that this whole time?”

She sat on his other wrist for several seconds more, not moving. He held his hand still to let her do whatever it was she wanted to do, climb down or pull off the other cuff. Several seconds passed. He started to think that she had jumped down without his noticing until something soft slumped against his bare skin, then slid limply to the floor.

“Kiwi?”

More silence.

#i'm like 95% sure I can have part four out next week #since originally it was the same piece but it felt long and unfocussed so I split it #but at the same time these updates feel real short and maybe unsatisfying? maybe I should just post all at once? man idk #the point is kikitok prompting tho so whateverr #g/t #g/t writing #giant tiny #g/t whump #my writing #borrowers #a mouse in the basement #oc: kiwi #oc: david #clong #kíkítok

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reborrowing · 1 year

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a mouse in the basement, part 4 /6(?)

First | prev | ao3 Kíkítok masterpost | AMITB Translations

I'm sure she's fine.

Kiwi's not doing so well and she doesn't much appreciate David's attempts to help her. word count: ~1400 tagging @whumpsday (dm/comment to be added please) contains: continued captivity, blood/injury, restraints, manhandling, language barrier and fear, same as usual.

Any relief about having his hands free evaporated as David felt Kiwi fall to the floor. He slowly felt around behind him until his fingers brushed against her soft fur. She still didn’t respond so he gently rolled her onto his hand and brought her around to where he could see her. She was hot and worryingly damp against his palm.

He unfurled his fingers and rolled her over as delicately as he could, then inhaled a sharp breath of horror. The skirt of her dress rode up to reveal a pair of deep gouges in her left thigh. The red-brown stain he’d noticed on her side this morning had grown a bright red border of fresh blood that stretched across her back.

“Kiwi? Are you okay? Please wake up.”

David brushed a knuckle against her fuzzy arm to rouse her and she shivered back to life. Her face stretched into silent terror as she looked around. Her eyes widened as she saw the fingers arched over her tiny frame and a broken, creaking noise crept out of her mouth.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s me. It’s just me,” David whispered.

She shook her head and struggled to her feet, her steps unsteady against the leather of David’s palm. He held up his other hand to help her steady herself. She ducked underneath it and made for the edge of his hand, collapsing when he blocked her path.

“Pokyó yá!? Piyískasakes! Ma yékakwamasó,” she cried.

Kiwi’s shoulders hunched as she curled up in defeat until she seemed hardly any larger than David’s thumb. He swept her feathery curls away from her face. Their eyes met for a second and she whimpered before folding her head down into her chest.

“Ma paiyomosó, pease,” she moaned.

“Kiwi, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I thought—I didn’t know what was going on,” David said. “You should rest, you need to heal, you shouldn’t be…god, what happened to you? Who hurt you like that?”

He stroked her hair again and she shuddered at the unfortunate attempt to soothe her. He wanted to scoop her up into his chest to keep her safe or at least reassure her that she would be okay. His heart broke that he couldn’t even manage that.

“Pease, ne hyóyén.”

“I’m sorry. Really, I don’t mean to scare you.”

He repeated his apology as softly as he could until she looked like she might believe it.Kiwi swallowed some of her tears and looked back up at him.

“T-tóna pópasa krát, pease?”

“Krát, yeah. I’ll have a look at the window. See if I can’t yell for help, even. But you really need to rest, you’re gonna kill yourself if you don’t,” David said.

Her eyes widened. If she had had any color left, it would have disappeared now.

“Kill? You kill?”

“What? No, no. No kill. You…look, just… just wait here, okay? Try to sleep. Please. Sleep?”

He set Kiwi down on the blanket he’d brought her the night before. He fluffed the corner that he could reach into a little bed and set her down beside it, making what gestures he could to get her to try to get her to understand. It felt kind of like coaxing a cat into bed. She followed him when he turned to go back to the window and he waved his hand to shoo her back.

“Kuh chítisi séchí pen,” she said, her voice wavering.

“I’ll give you your say-chee thing if I can reach it. Please, just rest.”

She grimaced and lunged after him as he moved back, leaping onto the hem of his slacks. He watched her climb for several stunned seconds. She dragged her way up his shin before he shook himself free of the shock. He bent down to pull her off about when she reached his knee. She squeaked when his fingers hooked around her waist to bring her back to the blanket. As soon as she touched down again, she scurried back until she felt she was well out of David’s reach.

“Ma mókyemesó wun!”

She hugged her bag to her chest as she turned back towards him. The next time he stepped back, she didn’t follow. Maybe scaring her like that was for the best, if it meant she would slow down and take a break.

David still couldn’t reach the windowsill, even with his arms free. He was close, just a few inches shy, but he had to let the chain bite into his ankle to get there. He swung the handcuff at Kiwi's…thing hoping to knock it loose but his aim was terrible. The cuff clanged loudly against the glass on his third try. Something thumped the floorboards upstairs and David froze.

He didn't know the kidnapper had heard anything, but he wasn't eager to draw the man's attention by making any more noise. Especially not while he was enjoying free hands. If Kiwi was from upstairs, the kidnapper might put together that she’d come down here to hide. And even if not, David was sure there he’d end up in heavier restraints if they knew he could somehow get free of the cuffs. He backed down from the window. He’d have to figure out something quieter.

As he shambled away, he stepped on the tack he’d found last night. He grunted, as much out of surprise as actual pain, and it went rolling out from underneath his foot. It took a moment for him to track it back down. It was Kiwi’s, he realized. The plastic piece had been whittled down and shaped into a handle. She probably hadn’t found it because she kept to the shadow along the walls.

He went to give it to her as a peace offering after scaring her so badly. The far corner of the blanket shifted as he knelt down. He apologized again and waited but Kiwi kept herself tucked out of sight. David sagged, guilty over shattering whatever trust she’d been willing to share.

“I couldn’t reach the window, but I have this for you. I’ll leave it here, okay? I am sorry.”

The rest of the day passed as slowly as all the others in the basement had. David spent it on the cot, arms splayed to stretch out his cramped joints. Some would call this behavior sulking, but that was more dramatic than he felt he deserved. It wasn’t as if there was anything else to do, so he was just sitting here. Waiting. Unhappy and unsettled.

Hours later, as the sun set and the basement got dark, Kiwi finally emerged. She crossed the room in silence, slowly enough David didn’t notice her. Not until he heard a small tink-tink-tink noise from the base of the stairs and there she was, staring up towards the door again.

She had a length of thin rope the same color of the blanket. One end was tied around the tack that David had left for her and was tossing it up at the bannister. It worked as a weight and after several tries she managed to get her thread wrapped around the bottom bracket holding up the handrail.

“Hey. Are you leaving?” David asked.

She jumped, nearly losing her grip and David cringed. He should’ve just let her go. She scrambled up the last few inches to the edge of the handrail, where she turned to look at him. Some of her confidence was back at least, if not her strength. He eyed the distance between her and the concrete floor nervously. It was a lot farther than when she’d slipped off his wrist.

“Íqíchówóts, you, ah…rest? Tsíkyés,” she said guiltily, just loud enough for him to hear.

He got up to get closer. She sat still and watched him until he reached the end of his chain. She stared suspiciously at David’s hands rather than look up to meet his eyes. He folded them together and hoped that could convince her he wasn’t trying to be threatening.

“Will you be able to get past the door? Are you going to be okay on your own?” he asked.

“Rúsura wun kyú piyískaki, I’m sorry. Fipiyískasaró, kuh hyókyóts pé wun. Áchyomosó rowou, David, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not upset with you, okay? I was trying to help you. You take care of yourself, please.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

She turned around and disappeared up the handrail. He waited at the base of the stairs for some time, but she didn’t come back. She made it out.

David went back to staring idly at the wall.

#g/t #g/t writing #giant tiny #giant/tiny #g/t whump #my writing #borrowers #a mouse in the basement #oc: david #oc: kiwi #clong #kíkítok

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