Sometimes the hateful memory of his head being shoved into a standing pool of his father's blood made it hard to breathe, and when he woke up in a cold sweat he felt his stomach turn as he tasted it in his mouth.
Silhouette was looking every single direction she could except at him.
Toriares sighed and regarded his friend and thought of his absent one and couldnt help but feel a bit guilty.
Kienan walked right past her to the bathroom, washing the grease off his face.
"Take it. Keep the change. Just spare me the psychoanalysis."
Suddenly, he understood.