I watched him leave, every second stretching the distance between us, my heart rioting while my legs begged to follow.
However, I stuck my foot on the ground, refusing to give in to whatever the rapidly beating organ was telling me to do. He had made his choice, which was to not share the same air I breathe, and I would have to respect it despite the bond that was tugging between us.
I turned away, painfully. Every step sent my heart into a frenzy, my breath hitching as the bond clawed at my chest. Still, I pushed on, dragging myself toward my room like it was the only safe place left.
The thought of dinner was long forgotten; I had no interest in putting anything in my stomach. I finally reached my room, jerking the door open, and I stared at the empty space in front of me.
As a child
