Eden watched him after that. Closely. There wasn't a thing DiAngelo did for the next two days that she wasn't aware of down to the flavor of his pudding snack whenever he needed to put something in his stomach.
And there was no mistaking the signs: he was going into withdrawal. By sheer strength of mind, he was able to mitigate the worst of the symptoms for the time being, but there was only so much he could do against the inevitable physiological effects. And yet injecting h****n wasn't at the top of the list of advisable activities when healing from grievous internal injuries.
Perfect. That just made things even easier.
"It's going to kill you," she said patiently, knowing full well that cold-turkey abstaining also ran the chance of killing him.
She didn't want that either, thank go
