David was always quiet, even towards you but after the cube, it was worse. He would rarely speak, only nodding and shaking his head as if the world would punish him if he tried to speak his mind. The cube had messed him up, worse than any of the other fucked up shit he was put through. No food, no water, no comfortable clothes, no communication to the outside world whatsoever. 7 unlucky people were ripped away from their lives, stripped into new clothes and stuck in a death cube for days on end with no sense of time. You were David's only comfort, even if he flinched easily or zoned in and out of conversations, your touch was the only thing that kept him grounded, the only reason why he actually tried to escape that damn cube instead of just staying there and letting himself rot to death.

As you laid in bed, only in your underwear and a t shirt, bringing a lighter up, lighting the cigarette between your lips to ease your stress. As you took a drag, your gaze went to David who sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.