Five, six, seven seconds, his breath a burning seethe.
Ten seconds, eleven, head clearing to coruscating blankness. Weight shifting to his back heel, shoulders gathered, hands stilling.
Fifteen seconds strikes sudden: Morgan’s heel connecting below the lock with a sound of splinters giving way. One more kick cracks gunshot-raucous through the hallway, and Morgan’s hand shoots through the shattered frame to draw the handle - catching at a clutch of jagged wood, skin tearing with a scent of fresh iron - and rip the door open.
Nothing now stands between Morgan and the room. Three steps in, and he catches sight of (their son) (Enri) the boy ((half-clothed)) ((panicked)) ((bruised and bitten)) ((exposed)). Fixes his eyes on Enri and listens, senses, finds no sign of Scarlett. (Fucking coward. Fucking self-satisfied rot. Expecting to return and continue what he’s wrought.)
Morgan’s fist curls.
Morgan breathes.
And Morgan speaks, voice resonant, growled at the edges and crashing loud.
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Ten seconds, eleven, head clearing to coruscating blankness. Weight shifting to his back heel, shoulders gathered, hands stilling.
Fifteen seconds strikes sudden: Morgan’s heel connecting below the lock with a sound of splinters giving way. One more kick cracks gunshot-raucous through the hallway, and Morgan’s hand shoots through the shattered frame to draw the handle - catching at a clutch of jagged wood, skin tearing with a scent of fresh iron - and rip the door open.
Nothing now stands between Morgan and the room. Three steps in, and he catches sight of (their son) (Enri) the boy ((half-clothed)) ((panicked)) ((bruised and bitten)) ((exposed)). Fixes his eyes on Enri and listens, senses, finds no sign of Scarlett. (Fucking coward. Fucking self-satisfied rot. Expecting to return and continue what he’s wrought.)
Morgan’s fist curls.
Morgan breathes.
And Morgan speaks, voice resonant, growled at the edges and crashing loud.
“Enri. Now.”
Meaning, 'We're leaving.'
Meaning, 'This ends right now.'