He gives another hard yank on the chain, swearing low to his breath. Trying to ignore the chill around the air, trying to forget what this means. He just has to focus on getting out. That's all Mike has to do, just get out. He can think later.
He hears the footsteps and just yanks even harder, not at all blind to what they are. Whose they are. It's Billy. Mike forces himself not to panic, forces himself to instead examine the lock on the collar. Try to figure out how to get out of it.
If he can bide his time and take something from the other, he can probably pick it. It seems like he can get into it, anyway. Mike just has to be patient. Just has to wait.
He can do this. He can do this, even if he's naked and terrified and the lights are flickering on, slowly and slowly and the drug dealer is coming towards him. Fuck his head hurt. The flickering of the florescent isn't helping him no matter how run-down, and the winces is apparent.
Mike's still forcing himself to calm down, taking in everything. Sheets on the tables. He's not sure he wants to know what's underneath, but the lamplight flicks on and he finally tears his gaze away from the surroundings, looking over at how his corner is illumnated.
His eyes bounce from the lamp above him to Billy to the box to the hand in the other's pocket, and he licks his lips, swallowing hard. Mike has to fight the fear. He has to.
"Very funny," He manages, sarcasm wrapped in venom.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-07-28 03:08 am (UTC)He hears the footsteps and just yanks even harder, not at all blind to what they are. Whose they are. It's Billy. Mike forces himself not to panic, forces himself to instead examine the lock on the collar. Try to figure out how to get out of it.
If he can bide his time and take something from the other, he can probably pick it. It seems like he can get into it, anyway. Mike just has to be patient. Just has to wait.
He can do this. He can do this, even if he's naked and terrified and the lights are flickering on, slowly and slowly and the drug dealer is coming towards him. Fuck his head hurt. The flickering of the florescent isn't helping him no matter how run-down, and the winces is apparent.
Mike's still forcing himself to calm down, taking in everything. Sheets on the tables. He's not sure he wants to know what's underneath, but the lamplight flicks on and he finally tears his gaze away from the surroundings, looking over at how his corner is illumnated.
His eyes bounce from the lamp above him to Billy to the box to the hand in the other's pocket, and he licks his lips, swallowing hard. Mike has to fight the fear. He has to.
"Very funny," He manages, sarcasm wrapped in venom.