I was pacing back and forth, biting on my nails, which is one of my mannerisms whenever I'm having a terror onslaught. I stopped and then looked up at the clock to see the time. It's already past midnight. He was gone for about twelve hours, and he hasn't come back yet. Every second I checked the windows, expecting he would go home any minute, but not a single strand of his hair was shown to my disheartenment. 

I heaved a deep sighed then closed my eyes, trying to calm my mind. I know panicking wouldn't be helped, but I can't help it. He told me not to do anything...