Shaking my head, I headed back inside and froze the moment I was about to head up the stairs. He was slouching by the kitchen counter, hands holding onto the marble, head down and there was the telltale whirring of the coffee maker as well. What was he doing? I couldn't breathe as he looked up and our eyes met. He looked exhausted to death. His eyes were the bleakest I have ever seen.
Hell, he looked the weakest I have ever seen. I bit my lip, everything inside me tightening as we silently stared at each other.
So much was happening inside me all at once. A part of me was relieved. A part of me wanted to hold him because it literally looked like he would fall down any moment. How many nights had he not slept? A part of me wanted to just runaway because all of this scared me incessantly
