Drunk

[Denali’s POV]

I lay alone, staring at the alarm clock that ticks off each and every minute that passes, and Rosco doesn’t return. Sighing, I turn over, trying to will myself not to think too hard about it, but when I close my eyes, all I can see is the hurt on his face from what I said.

“Was I too harsh?” I whisper, my worry beginning to bubble. “No. He was the one who was harsh first. Accusing me of being in love with Alexander still,” I continue. “And if I was, why was that any of his business?”

Dammit, this was frustrating. What in the world was I even doing? I didn’t know Rosco, and I shouldn’t care how he feels or thinks. But he was the first person to show me an ounce of kindness, and for that, I was grateful.

“Get it together, Denali,” I huff, grabbing a pillow and pulling it against me. “Stop bothering with that bipolar man. He’s an adult, and he should be fine.”