#Chapter 142 – Cold Pride

I jump awake at the sound of the alarm clock, gritting my teeth and hating that thing. But it’s silenced almost immediately and I raise my hand to rub at my eyes, feeling cramped and horrible and terribly sad after my night alone in this stupid chair. But as I start to come awake I notice that there’s a blanket laid across me – my favorite thick, velvety red throw blanket that I definitely hadn’t spread over myself before I fell asleep. Realizing what must have happened, I turn to peek around the corner of the chair and see Kent on the edge of his bed, one foot on the ground and the other leg bent in front of him as he stares down at the clock in his hands, unmoving. I watch him for a minute, taking in the hunch of his shoulders, the way his head hangs. And part of me wants to feel victorious about it, but the only thing I actually feel is a great deal of sadness to see him looking so terribly unhappy. But as he starts to move, I pull my face back, not wanting…I don’t know.