Chapter Text
Chapter One
Winston sat there, oddly feeling his toes in his government issued boots burn up with such zest and vehemence that he wondered if his feet would leave an imprint on the dense thick carpet which O’Briens feet strolled across every day. It was a strange sensation to be there in a room where the carpet fibers were long enough to consume the sole of your shoes whole, nothing like the cheap gaudy industrial rags that littered the Ministry of Truth, and stranger still was that regardless of the ostentatiousness of the room which contained him , which he should have been memorizing every detail about … he was almost feeling … incomprehensibly … shy.
And it stung a little to have a vague idea , an idea that Winston was endeavoring to bury at the back of his mind , that it might have been a product of the proximity he was at to O’Brien. Then at the mere thought of O’Brien it happened again, it was as if Winston had no control the words appeared before he could register them but he knew what they were going to be.
It always seemed as if O’Brien himself was whispering the words in Winston’s ears this peculiarity had occurred an innumerable amount of times rendering Winston to be paralyzed nonetheless of its frequency , there came the slow deep intake of breathe before the words “ we shall meet in the place there is no darkness “ were submerged into Winston’s brain like ice cubes dropped in boiling water , the melodic tinkling of the words against his usual nihilistic thoughts gave the same notion of a bandage being applied to a deep laceration.
Yet, what excited Winston more embarrassingly enough, was the hair breadths distance away O’Brien seemed as he lustrously breathed down his neck …
Winston felt the tips of his toes begin to be attacked by a million invisible needles.