Seeing him struggling with the food lid, I felt bad. I know I shouldn't feel this way but I can't help it as I know how much his arm must be aching.
Damn! Why the hell he isn't asking for help. **When you can see that he is having a hard time then why you aren't helping him?**
Gosh this inner voice of mine. Moving close to him I sat beside him and scoot closer.
His right shoulder was injured and he can't even hold the fork nicely, at one point he gave up and put the spoon back into the plate.
Sighing, I grabbed the spoon, digged into the pasta, give it a quick blow and leaned the fork near his mouth. God! I am feeling as if I am feeding the baby.
**Then why the hell your heart is pounding so hard, why the hell you feeling all the awkward of universe inside you? Why the hell you a
