"I—"<br/><br/>Antonio watched as her face became clouded with thought. He could almost feel the gears turning in her mind as she tried to make sense of her actions. It was an interesting process. He observed as she finally spoke.<br/><br/>"Fanya doesn't seem insane," A grin sprouts upon her face, "Wouldn't make a lot of sense to hire people who'd stab each other's backs the first chance they get, would it? I don't know how much I trust her yet... But she doesn't seem insane. A little crazy perhaps, but not insane. And besides, with a dog this happy, the master can't be<i>all</i>bad himself."<br/><br/>His eyebrows shot up in surprise as his eyes widened. A compliment? Or at least half of one. His mouth opened a bit and started to move, silently uttering half-formed words. He watched her hide the bottle half-heartedly before engaging him again.<br/><br/>"I'm a bit lost, to be honest. A couple of weeks back, I found myself running away. No proper reason not to go back... but I did not. Things at home were, well, fine, and uneventful. I realize now how lucky we were. How we had avoided all the horrors out there. And how that luck could've just changed at any time. We were so ignorant... I fear for those who I left behind... I should go back, and help them. Bloody hell..."<br/><br/>He sat motionless, empathetic, feeling the regret that she had felt, the guilt. Actions that went without reason.<br/><br/>A memory flashed from his subconscious. The smell of burning, a pink dress covered in ash, a bloodstain.<br/><br/>And then it was gone, the regret of a past deed fresh, and festering, in his stomach. His lips had opened slightly, his eyes out of focus looking beyond the room, beyond the Gomorrah.<br/><br/>"So... do<i>you</i>trust her?"<br/><br/>Annie's voice shocked him, dragging him back into the room. He returned with a start.<br/><br/>"<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">I-I trust her s-so long as she needs me. And she's needed me for a long while now.</span>"<br/><br/>He looks down at his hand. It's shaking. He hides the left hand in his coat as he gets up<br/><br/>"<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">I do think that I must be leaving. It's about time for us to be heading to bed.</span>"<br/><br/>He looks at the Louie, his face cold. Shaken.<br/><br/>"<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">Bed.</span>", he says while snapping.<br/><br/>Louie jumps down from the couch and sits while Tony approaches Annie.<br/><br/>"<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">It has been wonderful talking with you, Annie. Regarding the left behind, it is best to forget and move on. Don't make the mistake of remembering.</span>"<br/><br/>Tony bows slightly before her and turns on his heel, heading for the door.<br/><br/>He stops and turns his head, looking once more into Annie's eyes.<br/><br/>"<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">Good night Annie.</span>"<br/><br/>He disappears from the doorway before it shuts with a quiet click. No steps are heard before the sound of a door opening and shutting in the hall is heard.<br/><br/>Tony's hat lay on the ground in front of his chair,  Louie's toy still in her hand. Both forgotten in haste.<br/><br/>________________________________<br/><br/>Within his room, Tony stood in the center of the room. He shed his coat and shirt quietly, while Louie settled in a pile of pillows in the corner. As the dog dozed off, Tony stood there, staring into a blank wall, his left arm trembling.<br/><br/>He threw himself at a small table and picked up a bottle before taking a large swig. From a small leather sheath on his belt, he produced a combat knife. Tony dragged himself to a small armchair before reaching up and turning off the lightbulb with a string.<br/><br/>He took the knife and scraped it against his arm, before finally cutting a small nick into it, adding to the collection. His arm stopped shaking as he quietly sobbed in the dark.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>