Alice
It feels great being Nathan's small spoon. We are lying in his bed, which is too small for us both, but it's alright. This way, we are pressed like sardines against each other.
It's cozy, and I shudder whenever Nathan opens his mouth to tell me more about himself. We are having a bonding session.
"My mom died giving birth..." Nathan says, and I squeeze his hand, waiting for him to continue talking. "And I guess my dad always blamed me for her death."
"That's terrible..." I whisper in a heartfelt voice. What started as a conversation about favorite dishes, colors and animals suddenly became one about our families.
And Nathan's past is terrible.
He told me that his not feeling mentally well was why he was a bully, and hearing his story almost brought me to tears.
My heart fe
