[ It wiggles, worms somewhere deep. He'd shove it off as lies, as manipulations, just something he needs to clarify with Ash, his Ash, not the mad person these videos keep showing him. But the last wobbling words grinds against something so deep, so sore, so true that it rings through his body like a twinged nerve.
[ Maybe the rest is true, too.
[ He stills where he stands, face contorting at the phone, at the overcast sky. He twists the device in his hands so that the screen hides in his palm. What has he done? ]
[ The phone rumbles gleefully in his hand, spitting truths Quentin might not want to see. But eventually he will. He will. When he pulls his palm away from the screen, he has one final message waiting for him: ]
THE CHOSEN ONE MIGHT NOT LOVE YOU ANYMORE BUT WE DO WE'LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU QUENTIN SMITH
YOU'LL ALWAYS HAVE A PLACE DOWN IN THE CELLAR WITH US ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS UNLOCK THE DOOR AND LOOK INSIDE
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Maybe the rest is true, too.
[ He stills where he stands, face contorting at the phone, at the overcast sky. He twists the device in his hands so that the screen hides in his palm. What has he done? ]
no subject
THE CHOSEN ONE MIGHT NOT LOVE YOU ANYMORE BUT WE DO
WE'LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU
QUENTIN SMITH
YOU'LL ALWAYS HAVE A PLACE DOWN IN THE CELLAR WITH US
ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS UNLOCK THE DOOR AND
LOOK
INSIDE