Jay
"Deacon, I don't need any more false hope right now. I appreciate you trying to cheer me up…"
"No. It's not empty words. I have been thinking about this since we learned about Misha's whereabouts. Please, give me a chance."
Deacon interrupted me in the middle of my sentence. His eyes conveyed such strong determination that I let his rudeness slide.
"Alright, I'll hear you out. Not now, though. I need to clear my head." I say with a forced smile.
Deacon nods. I reassure him with a gentle pat on the shoulder before stepping into my room. I hope he understands. I need time.
I wasted an hour lost in my garbled thoughts, only to snap out of it and realize I'd been lying in silence and staring at the ceiling. As I sit up and let my feet hang over the edge of the bed, I can sense a persistent ache at the base of my neck. I'm stressing myself out. I should get up and have something to eat, maybe drink some water. Wallowing in self-pity won't solve anything.
