[M-OOM] Room 366

Revan is curled up in the corner of his room, concealing himself from the Force as Kira sleeps on the bed. He clutches a bottle of Reserve he procured from the Bar earlier, about three-fourths of the bottle already empty, as he switches between watching Kira sleep and staring around at the darkened space of the room.

He feels like the walls are closing in, like his skin is crawling, and, most of all, he feels everything. His conversation with Kira brought things to mind that he was so good at pushing aside before. Now everything felt like it was trying to crawl and scratch its way to the surface; every emotion he ever buried, every thought he ever shoved aside. Everything.

And now he was stuck, the alcohol not proving useful at numbing, as he tried to shift his way through the mess, thought by thought and feeling by feeling. His mind flits between thinking of Bastila and her torture to whom he was and who is to how he never will compare to Atton in Kira’s heart.

He fights an inner battle, trying to weigh each thought with arguments and evidence that supports or disputes them, and he feels like he’s losing.