AZALEA'S POV
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The noticeable struggle in Corbin's walk is clear. The splinter wounds have yet to heal-- which is unusual. "Are you sure you're alright?" The guilt is still beating down on my chest on a steady rhythm. If only he had a second pair of eyes, but no, Azalea chose to fight off veins. I know that I shouldn't be blaming myself-- because technically, I didn't do anything wrong, but he's hurting and I can see it in the way he winces when he rolls his shoulder, or inhales a deep breath.
All I want to know is why he isn't healing.
"I'm great. Anything that's bothering you?" There it is...the question I couldn't answer earlier. My lips part to spill the unspoken truth of my heart when my eyes land on the bluest of blue berries-- or that's what they look like, but they're actually
