#the vibe on this one may or may not be dofferent from his last piece

[toomuchdickfort]

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As much as he wants to pretend he’s paying attention to where he’s being led, Derrek is just listening to his breathing and their footsteps echoing in the hallway and the ribs that his shoulder bumps against every so often. He gets into a rhythm, counting his breaths with his steps, and when Barrow stops him, he forgets to keep breathing for a moment.

It feels like one of them should say something, and Derrek can feel Barrow take a breath beside him, but they let it out again after a moment and knock on a door ahead.

It’s loud, and it feels like it rings through his skull, after dealing with silence for so long. And the room that he’s led into is startlingly cold... he hasn’t had to fight the urge to shiver in the past two years. A part of him wants to cry, but he knows he’s not going to do that in front of someone. No thank you. Tears are for behind locked doors and under heavy blankets and that is it.

Barrow gives his shoulder another gentle squeeze before they let go, and he feels a bit lost without the contact. But he came here for a reason, and he’s not going to walk away now.

There’s the sound of paper moving, and someone clears their throat.

“Mister Velhues... you’re late.”

The voice is uncomfortably familiar, but he knows better than to acknowledge that.

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@highladyofthesith @reliablyaverage @a-court-of-gays-and-glitter @french-fry-0 @greyandgreeneyes @mauchi--mochi @soupgromlin