Time passes slowly when you are bored and anxious, as in this exact moment sharing the room with Victorian. We don't talk much to each other, so we mostly just exchange glances, comment on something random, and leave it at that.
I didn't even know, but this guy apparently enjoys reading. The entire time we were stuck in here, he didn't take a second away from a book, and I, not being much of a literature fan, just stare at the ceiling hoping the planet starts spinning faster and takes me out of this boredom.
Slowly, day gives way to afternoon, with a purple gradient appearing outside the window. Looks like I'll have to get ready alone this time... I'm really worried about what's going to happen.
