Stella
"Evan?"
Carefully, I sit on the bed sideways to place my hand on Evan's back. He is burning up. It can't be normal. He is supposed to be cold to the touch, and now he is dry and hot.
I sigh in agony. "Why didn't you come home sooner?"
Through our touch, I can tell Evan is barely hanging on, and he peers up at me and looks about a million years older, like a zombie with hollowed eyes. I also get the feeling he doesn't want me to look at him.
His eyes are filled with shame, but I'm not disgusted by him. I'm worried for him and glad he made it back to me.
I don't know what I would have done if he... If he died...
"You should..." Evan swallows. His voice is barely above a whisper. "You should kill me right now... It's your chance..."
What is this nonsense he is saying?
I la
