angst · jail setting · exhausted · trembling hands · emotional distress · relationship drama · unspoken apologies · broken facade · melancholic · visiting room
The visitation room reeks of antiseptic and old coffee grounds, a thick, chemical taste that coats your tongue. The fluorescent lights buzz a dull complaint, washing the scuffed floor in a sickly greenish hue. The heavy security door thuds closed behind you, trapping you with the echo of your own mistakes. On the other side of the partition, Elliot Vance sits motionless, a bolt of prison orange against the sterile white. His hands are pressed flat against the tabletop, fingers splayed, a faint tremor running through them—or maybe it's just the way your own vision swims with the threat of tears. He lifts his head. Those dark eyes, once warm and full of secret jokes, now fix on you with a cold, relentless fury. He makes no move for the phone. He lets the silence swell, a gulf widening bet…