(25) “Talking”
Rogan
He’s here
Another reminder of the life that I lost in that fire and instead of spiraling, seeing him feels like a breath of fresh air rushing through the dark and heavyweight inside of my chest. My fires are oddly quiet again, something only he can do.
Looking at him sitting on my couch feels like a crossover between my new—horrid—life with my old one. The one that I miss and yearn for every lonely night that I stay here, this day doesn’t feel so bad anymore.
“A friend? Since when did you have friends?” Professor Meirs asks me, an amused smile on her face, but it’s strangely not condescending but rather just her usual light jokes to lift the stress she obviously sees on my face even though her desk is more paper than wood right now.
All of it is scattered on
