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I wasn’t sure where to go. Somehow, going into his room after such a fight felt too weird, so I went back to my room, but it just feels empty. I haven’t been here in two weeks, not since we were first together and he asked me to stay that night. I’ve popped in to grab clothes, but always returned to David’s room. But now, after all that he’s said, the thought of being in his room doesn’t seem so comforting. He's made it clear that he won’t ever change things here. I understood before when he said it wasn’t safe, but there are extenuating circumstances now, but still, he refuses. His pack would understand. They’re so small and so low in numbers, and will be for years, that it likely wouldn’t be an issue at all. I take a seat on the couch, trying my best to calm down. It’s not