Chapter 8

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"I can literally see the pain and heartache radiating off of him, see the tendrils of darkness wrapping around his being, pulling him in and swallowing him whole."


I stare at the ceiling of my bedroom, trying to get my mind to calm its raging train of thoughts.

Lincoln has been avoiding me since the night of our little game of truth. My heart is aching for him, for the pain he's enduring, and I would just love to help him, to get him out of his head for once.

But it's obvious he's trying to deal with this on his own. And believe me, I get that. I get that he doesn't want to seem weak in front of me, or anyone, for that matter. I know I wouldn't want that if the roles were reversed. That being said, I also think he doesn't have any other choice.

And I have to admit, despite all of his avoiding techniques we actually got to know one another during the course of last week. We talk a lot during the meals or he tells me about new medical techniques he's studying with help of the old smartphone I gave to him. He doesn't tell me why he studies them or what he wants to do with them, considering right now he doesn't work as a doctor. Every single time I ask him about that he immediately closes up, and then I don't get anywhere with him for the rest of the night.

It's tiring, really. But we're taking baby steps, and I guess it's something. I'm just glad he accepted Finn's clothes, which he stored in my closet for whenever he wanted to stay at my place after a night out. It at least gives him a sense of normalcy in this less than normal situation. He hasn't left the house ever since the bridge incident, while I only left once to get some groceries, and I can still feel how scared I was, thinking that he might be gone when I get back.

"Mia?" A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts and I quickly jump out of bed, giving myself a once over in the mirror to make sure I look decent enough.

"Meh, it'll do." I say to myself as I take in my white pajama shorts and the black oversized sweater I wear at nights, my hair all over the place from the restless sleep I've had.

He knocks again and I can't help but roll my eyes before I open the door, mentally noting impatience as another character trait of the strange doctor living with me.

"Hi." His voice sounds tired when he looks at me, just like it always does. He sleeps half the day and still seems to be tired as hell. I guess mental instability is exhausting.

"Good morning. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah... I was just wondering, if, uh... If you wanted some breakfast?"

I blink a few times at the question, being slightly confused by this change of routine. "Breakfast?"

"Yeah, I figured it was my turn now, considering you've served me all the time..."

He scratches the back of his head and I can't help but grin when I see the color flushing into his cheeks.

"Link, are you blushing right now?"

I see the way he reacts to my usage of his name's short version, his eyes widening for just a split second before he composes himself again, a quiet mumble leaving his lips.

"Shut up."

"Oh my god, you are! Aww, Lincoln." Without thinking much I lean forward and brush my knuckles over his cheek, finding it extremely cute and also really, really thoughtful that he's actually bothering himself with this.

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