Summary: “He pulls the strings, the events and people fall into place”
Category: The Inside, Web/Rebecca
“Tearing her down, taking her down under your breath”
–Metric, “Wet Blanket”
He is a kind of god, although the world he rules over is considerably smaller than the one ruled by the God he doesn’t believe in. He pulls the strings, the events and people fall into place exactly how (never better than) he imagined it.
His fingers calloused on the lacquered finish of his desk command power, his eyes ask for nothing more than everything. He rules over her completely, the broken one he watches through the glass. He knows every nuance, every fiber of her; embraces the parts she tries to deny.
This is why he is not surprised when she enters his office, eyes large, hair perhaps a day behind in washing. She has been working hard (here, with the team, and at forgetting, always). Her delicate fingers curve around the door frame and she tucks her full lips inside her mouth as he just stares.
He knows, of course, what she’s needing, why she’s here. The strings are taught between them, and with the slightest of nudges, she falls. She is weeping, begging for him to save her from the memories, her dark past.
She looks at him and sees the face of a cruel god, and she supplicates herself to be spared not the rod and to be born again.