乇卩|乙ㄖ́

匚卄卂卩ㄒ乇尺 乇|ᘜ卄ㄒ

I spent a really long time following Griff. I don't know how I could guarantee that he's not leading me to my death right now, but that theory is probably just me being stubborn.

He's offered to carry me a few times because my leg was still really nasty, but I rejected all his advances. I was really mad at him for the first few days of travel, whether it was stubbornness or I was genuinely upset.

All I knew was that I was really tired, and that affected my mood.

He eventually stopped trying, and we stood silent for the rest of the way. We had finally decided to set up camp to rest. We had been walking all day and night after all, with only a few hours of rest. It was only right.

He gave me a pillow and blanket that he had stolen from the house we were in. I set up the fire while he set up everything else.

He placed all our stuff beside a tree, setting a trap so it wouldn't be stolen.

I guess he was really paranoid.

I glanced over at the two sleeping areas, my eyebrows narrowing when I got the full image.

"Are you not gonna cover yourself? Rest your head on anything?" I questioned, seeing the sad empty blanket on the dried grass.

"I only stole enough for one of us." his answer as dry as the grass.

"So, why not take it for yourself?" I frowned, kind of bothered by his selflessness. I treated him like shit for the past few days anyway.

"Didn't want to."

Now, his answers were making me angry.

I simply rolled my eyes, huffing as I crawled from the fire to my area.

I grabbed the pillow, slamming it onto his blanket.

He turned at the loud slam, glaring at me when he realized what I was doing.

"I don't want it."

"I don't want it either. I told you I wouldn't get used to something comfortable after sleeping on a rough floor for years."

"Oh c'mon, I saw you squeezing the life out of that pillow back at the house."

"So, now you think you know me? I don't want the fucking pillow, and that's final. Take. It."

"That's not what I'm sayi—"

"Just take the fucking pillow!"

His bangs flew up enough to reveal his second mouth, already growling at me in anger. Now I knew I was pushing his buttons again.

"Why are you so fucking difficult?" he asked me, clenching the rope he was holding.

"Maybe I like being a brat, or maybe you're the difficult one," I eyed him, poking my tongue into the side of my mouth.

He glared back, scoffing in annoyance.

I continued to look at him, thinking about something that made me curious.

"When was the last time you slept?"

He seemed put off by the question. Either he wasn't expecting it, or was ashamed of his answer.

"That's none of your concern."

"Oh shut the fuck up and answer the question. Your eyebags are darker than your fucking soul" I pressed, genuinely concerned about what his answer would be.

"I'm not answeri—"

Without thinking at all, I grabbed the pillow from his area, chucking it at him with all my strength.