INDY
He clicked his tongue again, harder this time. His fist tapped lightly against the door, appearing to be frustrated.
“Why did they have to make this door so damn durable,” he muttered.
I watched him from the bed, clicking my tongue in return. “Just stay here.”
He didn’t turn around.
“You really hate being in my presence?” I asked.
The question hung in the air. I already knew the answer to it, but a small portion of my heart hoped that I was shaking his mind even if it was a little bit. I shifted slightly and finally looked at him properly. He looked exhausted. His shoulders were heavier, his posture more rigid than I remembered.
It was so different from the Rome I was with in Firefell.
This one looked worn down.
It had only been a week.
What had happened in that week?
Ha
