Theo was a decent guy—too extraordinary for words to capture. He'd taken care of me for months after bringing me to the Black Room. A few times, we had those romantic, almost fairytale moments—Snow White, Cinderella kind of moments—where he'd catch me by the waist before I fell, or our faces would come so close we nearly kissed. But it never happened. Not because I wasn't attracted to him, but because I couldn't let it.
Like I said before, I knew so little about him.
"Hi, Theo. I was wondering when you'd be back."
Theo's phone buzzed in the right pocket of his black suit pants. He slipped in his left hand, the pale skin of his palm brushing the smooth fabric as he pulled the device out. His hand bore traces of red, raw like blisters—maybe from the weather, or something else.
