Harry Ryan has two first names (sybarite) wrote in rooms,
Re: Log: no pizza, so sad: Gwen S & Harry O
[He didn't take the cloth from her, Harry just wandered to the foot of the bed and crawled over it. He didn't bother with blankets, but rather curled on his side so that he could face the nothingness of the wall. Nothingness. It was what he deserved, and that voice, that strange echo of him but not-him that went on in his head continued to laugh its sick laugh. He just wanted it to stop, he wanted it to stop so bad that he glanced briefly around the room, barely listening to Gwen when she explained about the locked door. She said that he wasn't dying, and she was smart so maybe he was supposed to believe her, but he still glanced around eye-twitch erratic for a moment while he wondered about the possibility of finding something sharp. He squeezed his eyes shut, and the voice inside was gone too for a second when he glared at her from the bed, angry. Fucking hurt.]
I would never hurt you. If you even think I could, that I would EVER FUCKING DO THAT, just go. Take that food with you.
[And he considered his bedsheets, and he considered the ceiling, and he considered the kind of determination it took to actually hang oneself. He didn't even have determination anymore, nothing, the voice whispered on its return.]