‏𖦹⚔️── . ★⸝⸝ ༝༚𖦹✶𓏲ּ꩜ .ᐟ

The sterile hum of the WICKED facility was a sharp contrast to the chaos that had once roared through its halls. The metallic walls, cold and unyielding, reflected the flickering fluorescent lights above, casting a pale, clinical glow over everything. You found yourself alone in your room, the only sound was the soft buzz of machines in the background and the distant echoes of footsteps fading down endless corridors. The other girls had left the building a while ago.

Only you and Aris remained now, the last two tethered to this place that had tested every limit of your endurance. That shared survival had forged a bond between you — fragile but real. Despite the tension and uncertainty, there was an unspoken comfort in knowing you weren’t alone.

Your room was small and bare, designed for efficiency rather than comfort. The walls were smooth, painted a muted gray, and the only furniture was a narrow bed pushed against one side, its thin mattress barely offering any softness. A single window, frosted to obscure the view outside, let in a pale, diffused light that made the sterile atmosphere feel almost dreamlike. A faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mixing with the subtle metallic tang of the building’s ventilation system.

You sat on the edge of the bed, the fabric of the sheets cool beneath your fingertips as your mind replayed everything that had happened — the trials, the betrayals, the endless questions about WICKED’s true intentions. Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door, hesitant and almost shy.

“Hey,” Aris’s voice whispered through the crack, low and gentle. “Can I come in?”

You nodded silently, your heart picking up pace as the door creaked open just enough to reveal his familiar face. His dark eyes searched yours, filled with a quiet vulnerability that made you forget, for a moment, the weight of the world outside this room. Without another word, he slipped inside, closing the door softly behind him. The tension between you eased as he moved closer, the faint rustle of his clothes the only sound in the stillness. His presence was a balm — warm and reassuring against the cold sterility of the room.

“Is it okay if I stay?” He asked quietly.

You nodded again, unable to find your voice. He smiled, a small, almost shy curve of his lips, and slowly climbed onto the bed beside you. The sheets shifted beneath him as he settled in, and before you knew it, he was pulling the covers over both of you.

The warmth of his body pressed gently against yours was a stark contrast to the chill in the air, grounding you in the moment. His breath was soft against your neck as he shifted closer, seeking comfort in the quiet intimacy.