4 Dream and passion
Tom stretched his long legs under the table, stifling a yawn. It was a few minutes at dawn and he was tired. In truth, he hadn't had a good sleep in months, since his visions of Alice shot up.
To his great surprise, however, in the last hours his migraines had thinned out, as if having her by his side gave him the strength to better withstand his worst Gift.
Well, not exactly by my side, he corrected himself. In the same building. At good distance from those devilish rings.
He tried to touch the scar on his face, but it still hurt too much. After all, he knew he had screwed up, that he deserved worse and, if Alice had known everything, not even the devil himself would’ve found the courage to face her rage.
She ignored it, but he did the best for her by their imp
