#darlinglaylalee

The past few days had been a...struggle, for Cain, to say the least--it felt as if he had been grieving all over again, and he wasn’t sure quite what to feel. Was he supposed to be grateful, that he finally knew? Because a part of him had...really, truly wished he had stayed ignorant--stayed unassuming; it was childish, sure, but Cain had become a...wishful thinker, of sorts. His mind had been in a fog, since the parent’s weekend--which must had been why he bumped into the small frame of the girl in front of him, a small stuttered swear underneath his breath before reaching out and steadying her, gloved hand on her shoulder, “S-shit--sorry about that. You a-alright?” at least he had been getting better about touching people--at least, as long as he wore his leather gloves.