19801 September Chapter 72: On Control

To lose control, Emmet thought to himself, sitting alone on the cream coloured bed, as if it were an island, alone and floating in a vast ocean of turbulent blue, the last vestiges of what could be considered solid where he currently lay down, was a terrible thing.

"one    two    three    four     five..." he counted and timed, as he breathed.

His control had not cracked when he was offered the position as facility director. He had maintained his composure and a respectable expression as his person was insulted and his family threatened. He had accepted the position with grace, sacrificing his personal romantic relationships with a calm enough demeanor, standing still and saying nothing as Doctor Johnstone threw weak punch after weak punch, with her shaking, fragile arms, at his unmoving chest.

He had not flinched when she called him a heartless bastard, and he was not inclined to