[ he has a job to do. a constant reminder is needed for him to even get Elizabeth pulled from Apartment #7, deactivating the very trap that was meant to keep people like Bigby out from the room. it's a twisted form of irony, but that's how things here often play out. whatever suspicions that may have had her wary of his intent in the coming hours of the curfew, it wouldn't change the fact that she was still put to sleep and subject to the will of the scientists.
all he can take solace in is his cigarette, smoking it as slow as possible as she enjoys her last few moments of slumber. he is in no rush to wake her.
when she comes to naturally, he gives her as long as she needs to absorb her surrounding. to realize what is happening without having someone tell her. it wouldn't take Elizabeth long, knowing how quickly she's picked up on everything else. a puff of smoke rises to the ceiling before he breathes in a sharp inhale of air. he is just a short distance away from her, right next to the tray that held the gun. ]
Hey. Sorry to wake you. I know it's shitty to have this keep happening day after day for you.
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all he can take solace in is his cigarette, smoking it as slow as possible as she enjoys her last few moments of slumber. he is in no rush to wake her.
when she comes to naturally, he gives her as long as she needs to absorb her surrounding. to realize what is happening without having someone tell her. it wouldn't take Elizabeth long, knowing how quickly she's picked up on everything else. a puff of smoke rises to the ceiling before he breathes in a sharp inhale of air. he is just a short distance away from her, right next to the tray that held the gun. ]
Hey. Sorry to wake you. I know it's shitty to have this keep happening day after day for you.