POV: Chetan
– This really isn't the time for your tantrums…
Chetan waited a few more seconds, hoping to get at least a sign of annoyance, a sigh, anything that would allow him to find Eugene, that weak energy he knew.
But the man remained silent, lost.
He finally looked away and took a few steps back. He needed to think. The situation was already strange enough without having to endure the insistent stare of someone who refused to answer a single question.
He walked past the debris of the furniture, then stopped near the wall.
– Okay. Let's start from the beginning.
He raised a finger.
– First, I'm sorry. Second, I regret accepting this mission, and yes, you were right. Third, will you talk to me? I promise not to change the subject… we couldn't talk about it on this white sand.
He turned back towards him.
– Have I forgotten something?
Eugene looked at him and brought his legs even closer together.
Chetan let his arm fall back down.
– still "sad"
He approached cautiously and crouched as close as possible to Him.
Her skin was deathly white.
His torso rose very slowly
I couldn't help but take off the shirt even though it was torn, I put it over his shoulder.
- THANKS
He murmured.
Finally
– Eugene.
No reaction.
– Hey. Eugene.
Her eyes shifted slightly towards him.
Chetan froze.
a reaction
– Ah! You're not angry anymore.
Chetan moved close enough to observe her face without giving her the opportunity to back away.
– Do you know how to get out of here?
Eugene stared at him.
– N ?.
Silence
Chetan's face crumpled and his whole body recoiled in unison with a really good speed.
Another long silence followed.
Then Eugene looked down at his hand and began to laugh in the strangest way that had ever been heard.
– AH. ….A….A….A….A….H…A. ..AH?.....HA.HA.HA
Eugene followed her gaze apprehensively. And launched
– laughter defuses tense situations…. .
Their eyes met and their eyelids fluttered.
For a whil
e, they remained like that.
"It's not mine," Chetan asserted.