"Are you okay?"

I look up to see who it is. It's Damien. "I'm fine."

"You sure? I could take the day off and hang if you want, instead of you moping here in your room all day."

"I like moping in my room," I say, "It gives me a sense of purpose."

Damien laughs and walks out of my bedroom to go to work.

I take a drink of the water and set it back on the counter. Damien hasn't gotten back yet, and I'm worried.

I hurriedly pick the glass back up and fill it with more water. I'm starting to freak out a little bit. I always get really dehydrated when I'm freaking out. I down another glass. I'm starting to despise the taste of this stuff.

The glass is now in the sink and I'm sitting on the sofa in the living room, staring at the door. I start to pace. What if they found out about us? I should have accepted his offer for him to skip work. Then we would have been apprehended together. That would have been a comfort, at least. But now I'm all alone.

"I was really worried about you, you know," I say, my hand clutching his as his chest is pressed against my back. I can feel his breath on the back of my hair.

"I'm sorry..." he says.

I glance back at him and smile. "Don't be," I say.

The door still hasn't opened. I need some more water.