"Olive," Zanthus began as we stepped outside of the cabin. "Can we just maybe...sit down for a few minutes?"
I looked up at him, my brows furrowing. "Yeah, sure. Is anything wrong?"
"There is," he admitted. He sat down on the top of the stairs, his knees spread out and his elbows rested on them. Confused, I awkwardly stood there and gave him his space that he didn't ask for, but seemingly needed. "It's probably f*****g stupid, though," he shook his head. "But it keeps replaying in my mind over and over again."
"What is it?" I asked, genuinely curious. Zanthus looked over at me, as if he had forgotten I was there and just finally remembered. "Are you alright?"
Giving me a look of indifference, he patted the spot beside him. As if the spot was suddenly a magnet and I was made of metal, I
