Author's note: Shifted a few pov's. If you already read, please skip.
"Sir? Are you okay?" She asked me again. Tenderly. I wanted to lie to her. But the softness her voice held made me speak the truth.
"I'm feeling nauseous." Was all I could mumble. I didn't hear any response from her for almost a minute. I was counting. The only way to get rid of this tightness I was feeling in my chest.
Slowly, almost like I imagined it, I felt her moving closer to me before I felt her fingers brush my palms and I felt something inside me jolting. I blanched back from fear. What is happening to me?
"What are you doing, Miss Wilson?" I asked her lowly. My voice was heavy from the emotions that were everywhere today.
"Trying to help you, Mr. Atticus. Can I hold your hand?" She asked me and I audibly
