BRENT'S POV
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I leaned back in the worn leather chair that groaned under my weight. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering fire. Dust clung to every corner, and the air held a faint musk of whiskey, pine, and something burnt from a failed spell attempt days ago.
“Yes, Em. I promise I'll come see you.”
“That’s what you said last time, Brent.” Her voice crackled with worry through the phone. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing, nothing I just… there's just a lot going on right now.” I downed the whole glass, the burn soothing. “Just be patient with me okay?”
“Yeah,” she mumbled but didn't sound pleased. “Okay, I can do that but please don't go too deep in whatever it is you're doing.” A pause. “You know what happened last time.”
My grip
