It’s another day watching Skye bury herself in work all day and reading until she can’t keep her eyes open at night. She’s been running from something, spending the last two months doing anything to keep herself from thinking about me. About us. I correct myself, because I’m not giving up on the idea that there will be an us. She’s in self-preservation mode, I understand that. But for me, there’s nothing to fight for but her.
