A light knock comes on my door, and I open my eyes, and Mycole enters. He wears a navy blue sweater and black jeans and his hair is decent as always and his blue eyes lighten upon seeing me. He smiles and walks to my bed and kisses my head, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“You’ve been crying?” He asks in concern.

“Like you don’t know,” I grumble and rub my eyes roughly, pulling away from the strand of hair that sticks to the tears on my face.

“No, I don’t.” He replies blankly.

He's so good at denying or he’s telling the truth.

“You came in earlier...