[ The door is still open, from before. Zane never closed it.
How is he supposed to answer? What is he supposed to say? He doesn't know how to describe the buildup of pressure, the need. The anger at being trapped, and the shreds inside his mind that could, should have been something intact. The Voice.
The attitude he ordinarily takes, and the stress that tolls upon him, makes him appear five, ten years older than he really is. But maybe right now there's a hint of his actual age in the confusion and frustration and unhappiness. ]
[PRIVATE >> SPAM]
How is he supposed to answer? What is he supposed to say? He doesn't know how to describe the buildup of pressure, the need. The anger at being trapped, and the shreds inside his mind that could, should have been something intact. The Voice.
The attitude he ordinarily takes, and the stress that tolls upon him, makes him appear five, ten years older than he really is. But maybe right now there's a hint of his actual age in the confusion and frustration and unhappiness. ]
I don't know.
[ That's as close to the truth as he can get. ]