Seven let himself fall from the ceiling. He landed gently on the floor and reached down, picking up the paper crane. He looked back up in the direction that Sven had went.
“What was that?” he said quietly. “How am I supposed to react?”
Seven noticed something. A few minutes ago, he could hardly hold himself together. He could feel himself falling apart. But now, after listening to Sven, he felt… better. He was still shaky, but not like the world was collapsing in on him.
He turned and punched a wall. What was with these people. They kept sending him mixed signals. Was it alright for him to be here or not?
“Stop confusing me!” he said, leaning his flushed face against the cold, smooth wall.
A thought came to him that made him frown. Even with how painful being in Pandora had been, at least it had been simple. He knew what people thought of him, he knew his place, and he knew what his place was. Everything now was so much more complicated. He didn’t know any of those things anymore. Maybe that was the reason that he felt like everything was falling apart.