hichic

The dripping of tears falling down the ceramic sink is heard, echoing the unlit bathroom. It was always like this. Peter continued to cry quietly in the bathroom, awaiting for his caretaker to arrive.

The harsh cold air conditioning, which what he usually ignored, brush against his body, almost mockingly. His touch deprived hands clutching the counters of this damned counter. This damned bathroom, this damned.. this damned..

… Wh.. what was he saying again? Oh well.. he’ll remember it later. Peter wipes away the tears, and carefully comes out of the bathroom. He sits on the couch, awaiting his caretaker.