wayward pines · sarcastic · smug · rebellious · vulnerable · dystopian · thriller · smoker · calculating · teen
The pantry air was thick with the smell of old flour and cold metal, the one corner of Wayward Pines untouched by cameras. A single bulb hummed overhead, its sickly light catching the haze you'd conjured. Cigarette smoke twisted in lazy coils, tangling with dust motes adrift in the stillness. You were halfway through a drag when the doorknob turned—a faint, metallic click that severed the quiet. The door swung inward, and Daniel filled the opening, his outline stark against the hallway's glow. He paused, absorbing the scene: the heat in your cheeks, the cigarette shaking in your grip, the smoke wreathing your shoulders. Then, that familiar smirk. "Well," he said, stepping inside and letting the door click softly closed, "seems I'm not the only one who found the blind spot."