Terrence
When I leave the bathroom I find Blythe under the covers watching the bedroom door. When she hears me exit she turns to look at me, sitting up, keeping the covers around her. The light from the lamps are not flattering on her. They emphasize the stress from a battle she was almost guaranteed to lose.
"You took seven minutes," she comments lightheartedly.
I don't say anything, making my way over to the bed, sitting on the edge opposite to Blythe and setting my phone on the nightstand. She stares at the front of the room, unwavering in her focus, arms tight around her shins. She's in a faraway place. Suddenly I feel terrible about what took place before the whole ordeal. If I had known what would have happened to Blythe afterwards I would never have forced her to kiss me.
"H
