Skye
It hurt. It hurt so bad, and I knew he had a right to be furious, but it hurt more than I could describe. After he left, I couldn’t concentrate on painting anymore. I cleaned my brushes and packed everything away. I tried my best to keep the tears at bay, but they kept rolling out of my eyes.
By the time I slipped under the covers my eyes felt puffy and dry and all my tears were finally dried up. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it, falling asleep because I was just so emotionally drained.
My dreams were haunted by demons from the time I was a child and somehow Theodore’s angry, disappointed face mixed in there somewhere. By the time I woke up, I was even more tired than I was the day before, and I honestly didn’t have it in me to train, but I had no other choice.
