Interlude

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Disclaimer: The story herein is fiction. Fiction is defined as being the following: A lie. A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact. Please don't take these stories as truth. No harm or disrespect is intended by any of the fiction contained here.

I love him more than I ever thought possible, but I swear to you -- I'm going to kill him. If he doesn't stop bouncing around like a kid on Skittles (while I can barely stand) I'm really going to end him.

Here.

Now. Tonight.

"MO!" I grab his shoulders, finally getting his attention.

And I hate myself.

All the air and life and will and bounce that is so acutely Bren drains away. Only a shell is left, limp in my arms.

I sigh. "You're worried, too."

He nods. "Kinda scared, yah."

All I can do is cup his cheek.