72 An Empty, Entertainment Seeking Bra

SLIGHT TRIGGER WARNING

"You're going to wear a hole into the ring," Vixen sighed, shaking his head dismissively at Regan as he walked into the room.

"Oh please," Regan rolled her eyes, sitting up in her bed, "if I had eyes that could wear holes into something, I would have left this hell a long time ago."

Vixen scoffed and placed down a glass of water on the table. He looked up at Regan for a moment and turned back to setting the table, "You must really be itching to get out of here."

"What would you think?" Regan shrugged, slowly sliding off her bed and walking towards the table. She glanced at the tray and looked away in slight disgust, 'the only thing keeping me from jumping off a cliff is this cage,' she thought to herself, taking a seat at the table, 'who would have thought.'

"When did you even come in?" Regan asked, looking up at Vixen as he set the table.

Even though she saw him do this every day, it always looked entertaining to watch. He always leaned in at the same angle while placing the food down and in the same order too: Water, tray, and a napkin in which plastic utensils were kept. Ever since the incident with the fork, he had never let her eat with anything that could be used to harm oneself.

'He really meant it when he asked me to stay alive and suffer for the people I harmed, huh?' Regan muttered to herself as she continued to watch him set the table.

"What?" Vixen asked locking eyes with her, his hands rising to his hair, "why are you staring at me?"

'There it was,' Regan thought to herself, letting out a little chuckle, 'ruffling hair segment.'

Vixen stood up and ran his hand through his hair while keeping cold eye contact with Regan. "What do you want?" he growled.

"Nothing," Regan shrugged, breaking eye contact with him and turning to her food, "just wondering how many girls in this hell must want to enjoy this visual show from you."

Vixen turned around, clearing the cart in which he brought the food in on. "Are you one of them?" he asked.

"Oh HECK NO!" Regan refuted immediately, shivering as she remembered the cold stares Vixen's eyes only knew how to make, "I'd carve my eyes out."

"Good," Vixen shrugged, turning his head slightly to glance back at Regan briefly. His eyes stared at her blankly but the room trembled from that stare, "I don't want you looking at me either."

Regan immediately turned away, his menacing purple eyes sending her so many shivers that she could barely lift up a spoon with her trembling hands. Yet, Vixen walked over to the entryway, directly in Regan's point of view, and sat down. He pulled out his phone and started playing a game on it.

Vixen looked up from his phone at Regan and then turned back to his phone, "Do I look like a babysitter?"

Regan examined his pose. Nonchalant look on his face, phone in his hand, barely looking up and the person he was supposed to watch. "Yes, you do look like every teenage babysitter out there."

"I'm not a teen, don't confuse yourself," Vixen replied, blankly.

"Right," Regan shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She knew she wasn't being watched by Vixe and his eyes certainly weren't on her every move, but she felt this immense need to stay still. Like she was being watched from every corner of the room by Vixen and any wrong moves might result in the loss of her life.

"Gee," she muttered, "what happened to nice Vixen?"

"Nice Vixen?" Vixen sneered, "since when was there a nice Vixen?"

Regan blinked in surprise, "you know… that day?"

"You're still hung up on one event that happened a month ago?" Vixen sighed, glancing over his phone to Regan, "don't have high hopes, because it will be all the fun for me to bring them crashing down."

"Tsk," Regan huffed, "did you know that that was the longest sentence you've said all day? It's not even surprising that it was demeaning."

Regan turned back to eating when Vixen didn't reply to her comment. A little smile tugged at the corners of her lips. 'At least this is the only normal consistent thing in my life right now,' she thought to herself as she slurped up more soup.

Consistency was something she had always liked in her past life. The same environment around her every day, the same familiar faces she had embedded into her memory, the same mood she would feel when she talked to someone, the same smile and the same feelings. None of the calm feelings she would have for consistent things were in this place she now called her 'home.' The same grey walls she always woke up to, drown her deeper in depression, the same cold feeling from waking up and having no one to talk to wrapped heavy chains around her heart and the same rush of self-hate she fed to herself each day, strangled her.

The one thing she could face without feeling the need to sacrifice herself to a noose was ironically, Vixen, the person who paid barely any attention to her. He had the same expression on his face when he greeted her, talked to her in the same cold tone as he would to a rock, treated her the same way as he did the day before even if she told him she wanted to die and even though he never smiled, the blank but genuine emotion on his face as he gave her a condescending-but-somehow-nice comment was comforting.

'It didn't mean that he wasn't still an empty, entertainment seeking brat who happened to be older than me' Regan pondered, looking at him for a second and then turning back to her food with a huff, 'he was just a consistently empty, entertainment seeking brat who happened to be older than me.'