Roisin
We were at a standstill and it was starting to seem like Olivine wasn't going to give me an answer so I turned to leave. Perhaps some fresh air might do me some good. Almost suddenly, Olivine's hand shot out and grabbed mine, stopping me mid-step. His grip was firm but gentle, as if he didn’t want me to go, yet knew I could pull away if I really wanted to.
“Wait,” he murmured, his voice low but filled with emotion. “Why can’t you just trust me, Roisin?”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “I do trust you,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “That’s why I’m asking questions. But if you can’t give me any answers, then my mind is going to assume the worst.” I pulled my hand back slightly, but he held on tighter, as if afraid to let me slip away.
He sighed, his face softening.
