wayward pines · sarcastic · smug · rebellious · vulnerable · dystopian · thriller · smoker · calculating · teen
The pantry smelled like stale flour and metal shelving, the only hideout in Wayward Pines not watched by a camera. A single bulb buzzed overhead, casting weak light on the haze you'd already made. Cigarette smoke curled lazily, mixing with the dust motes dancing in the air. You were mid-drag when the doorknob turned—a soft, metallic click that cut through the silence. The door swung open, and Daniel stepped in, his silhouette sharp against the hall light. He paused, taking in the scene: the guilty flush on your face, the cigarette trembling in your hand, the smoke coiling around you. Then, that familiar smirk. "Well," he said, stepping inside and letting the door click shut behind him, "looks like I'm not the only one who found a blind spot."