[ Nacho's stomach curdles as he peers at one of the open caskets, his eyes crawling over the scratches on inside of the lid. His mind goes immediately to the obvious conclusion of how they might get there, and he can't help but imagine what it would feel like to die that way... alone, helpless, desperately trying to get out and knowing no help is coming...
It's a relief when someone speaks near him, and his attention is re-directed towards them.
His brow knits just a little at the other man's words. ]
Vacation? [ His tone is mostly flat, with the faintest hint of incredulity underneath it. ]
no subject
It's a relief when someone speaks near him, and his attention is re-directed towards them.
His brow knits just a little at the other man's words. ]
Vacation? [ His tone is mostly flat, with the faintest hint of incredulity underneath it. ]