While I could see well enough thanks to my… supernatural nature, the only light at all came from occasional lightning flashes through small, grimy windows. And the cracks around the now busted door.
Rusty garden tools hung from pegs on the walls and more stacks of similar crates to the one she is gesturing that I should sit on occupied one corner. The next thunderclap that shook the small structure made me vocalize something too close to a whimper.
I couldn't suppress my fear and my heart rate spiked. A response to the sudden noise that I couldn't control - despite knowing exactly what caused the sound, scientifically. Thanks to Helene.
"Not a fan of thunderstorms?"
"It's just noise. I'm fine."
Kyrie asked me with a nonjudgmental tone, but I answered quickly. Dismissively, defensively, and altogether much too obvious that I am bothered. As I always seem to be around her about something or other.
