when flying feels like falling
#7
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Upstairs. She let her gaze wander to the windows that lined the outside wall. Were one of those rooms his? She wondered if she would prefer living in a building, but she couldn’t get past the feeling the masion presented her. Something about it just was… weird. Sure, she didn’t mind going inside, but Ryan just couldn’t imagine trading her shoreside cave and den for this place.


"Quiet, yeahh," she murmured, wondering if that silence was ever too much. She never had to experience total quiet – the lap of the waves along the shore was almost always audible, albeit faint. It always seemed to soothe her. She turned her crimson eyes back on him, raising a palm to gesture at the headphones. "What’re those?" She asked curiously, tilting her head slightly to one side. They looked strange, whatever they were.



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