“It’s not just because I don’t think you can handle it,” Ryke suddenly tells me. He pulls the towel away from his lip, focusing on the damp cloth. “It’s that…” His face twists. “…I don’t know if I can translate it without screaming.” “Just give me something,” I choke out the words. Connor is quiet, looking concerned for me.
bro. it's THIS bad?? i'm scared.
