No bodies ever knew.

Fate had a funny way of letting things happen, he thought as the morning-lit windows filled his empty stare. The room was bathed in grey light, and Tic could see now that it was old; dusty and aged with use and neglect. It was old and experienced, guest after guest occupying it, then left for absence. But right now, only now, it was different. Its walls held something unlike its previous inhabitants, seperated from the rest; so different from anyone else. And it didn't want to let go of him just yet.

But Tic wanted out of this ornate dungeon. He wanted to be back with Miraye, tortured in darkness rather than light. She was such a pretty girl, and he wondered why he hadn't realized earlier. He had never longed to be taken into another's arms like that before. But this was all he wanted to remember of what had happened. This, and something else.

Tic turned to lay on his back, stare shifting to the sheeted ceiling of the bed. He hadn't made much use of its comfort; sleep had failed him that night. His eyes blurred, stinging with dryness as he tried to keep them open. A hurt hand slid slowly past his side, over the undone clasps, and stood in the air before his face. The violet eyes moved down, looking over the hand with a close glance. They were the same fingers and palm he saw each day, frail and thin, and he couldn't find his answer there.

He let the fingers drop onto his lip, sliding them gently over the skin beneath his nose. The blood was dry now, unyielding to the soft pads of fingertips. He breathed, lowering the hand onto his chest. Though he knew the day would begin soon, he allowed his eyelids to rest. He laid awake for a moments, his mind still conscious. But before he fell into a short escape, he thoughts resounded dazedly.

.. and a funny way of stopping them too.