09-02-2023, 03:56 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-02-2023, 04:00 AM by Maksim Marveet.)
From the privacy of the bathroom, Max marveled at his face in the mirror. He touched his own flesh repeatedly, pushing and tugging upon the places that previously rendered so much pain. Next, he stripped of the hospital shirt, doing the same for his ribs, stomach, back... His eyes were saucers. His mind struggling to comprehend, yet when his gaze flashed to the reflection of the door, true understanding came faster than he could process.
The weight of the night settled on his shoulders, drawing them down, and his hands gripped the sink in reaction like he needed an anchor to keep him from something he might regret. Was this Pavel’s plan all along? Was his brother-in-law the mastermind of an elaborate scheme, and Maksim the idiot dragged through collateral hell? They couldn't have explained this ahead of time? Let him in on the plot? Why not? Because he was a Marveet or because he was a fool?
When he rediscovered his face in the mirror, it was hard. He needed answers, and they would share or Alina would hear the truth — the whole truth.
He threw open the door to discover a shocking scene beyond. The man in white had removed his mask, standing before Pavel himself offering the exact same relief as what Maksim, the real victim, was given.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” His jaw dropped. He rounded the room, stare a mix of accusation and shock.
“I went through all that,” he waved at the vacant bed, “Alina cried on my shoulder, and you get to walk out of here like—“ but the stupor of his accusation hung on words that wouldn’t quite solidify under the scrutiny of the Vasilevs’ combined reaction. His desperate demand for answers settled on his sister-in-law, but as he looked at her, he shook his head and stomped off to put on his real clothes and go the fuck home, knowing he would never get them.
The weight of the night settled on his shoulders, drawing them down, and his hands gripped the sink in reaction like he needed an anchor to keep him from something he might regret. Was this Pavel’s plan all along? Was his brother-in-law the mastermind of an elaborate scheme, and Maksim the idiot dragged through collateral hell? They couldn't have explained this ahead of time? Let him in on the plot? Why not? Because he was a Marveet or because he was a fool?
When he rediscovered his face in the mirror, it was hard. He needed answers, and they would share or Alina would hear the truth — the whole truth.
He threw open the door to discover a shocking scene beyond. The man in white had removed his mask, standing before Pavel himself offering the exact same relief as what Maksim, the real victim, was given.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” His jaw dropped. He rounded the room, stare a mix of accusation and shock.
“I went through all that,” he waved at the vacant bed, “Alina cried on my shoulder, and you get to walk out of here like—“ but the stupor of his accusation hung on words that wouldn’t quite solidify under the scrutiny of the Vasilevs’ combined reaction. His desperate demand for answers settled on his sister-in-law, but as he looked at her, he shook his head and stomped off to put on his real clothes and go the fuck home, knowing he would never get them.