The two found a bench lit by a streetlight, and when Roland took a seat, Lyric did too, albeit slightly confused.
“Lyirc,” Roland said after a few minutes of silence; he was staring at the ground before him and not at Lyric. “I’m sorry for breaking the promise.”
Lyric stared at him, looking at how his dark hair seemed lighter due to the harsh lights of the white streetlamp, his eyes seemed slightly darker due to the lack of light, and how his leather jacket reflected the light. And he didn’t believe him. Fern had said the same thing. Precisely the same thing, and when he broke it the next time, the violence had been aimed at him, and as a result, Lyric was left with two broken ribs.
So he shrugged. Roland sighed. “I really am sorry, I’ve just been dealing with some s**t, and I needed a
