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"I," She says, "am always stuck. 

I am always stuck between giving

people everything because I am dying 

to create meaningful relationships, 

and giving them nothing at all 

because then if they leave, 

at least I'll be left whole

***

Nothing should be different. My repetition of the day again is coming to another turn as I wake up before the alarm of the clock- before the hour of five can sound.

Nothing should be different.

Yet something is.

I lay still in the bed, staring at the arms that are wrapped around me. Feeling the steady breath as Orion's chest rose and fell against me. Taking in the skin that hit mine.

Slowly, I try to move away. But he pulls me back.

"Stay," his word is thick with sleep, making me question if he was even awake or not. My body is tense, not use to this new form of affection.

I could handle the heat of lust, and the hitting of skin when desire consumed. But this was...different.

I slowly turn around, taking in Orion's sleeping face for the first time. His beard still was wild. His hair falling around him in a knotted mess. He moves closer, burying his head within the corner of my neck. I inhale sharply, freezing and not knowing what to do.

After waiting several more minutes, I wiggle away, shoving a pillow into his arms. I can't help but smile as I watch Orion cling to it, pressing his face deep into the softness.

Running used to help clear my mind. I used to find a peace in it. Now I could barely take in my surroundings as they filtered by me.

The sun breaks through the trees, showing off its arrival. The warmer months were coming, casting away the chill that the first few weeks of spring normally brought. The change in the forest could be seen. The leaves were becoming fuller, the ground growing with life that had been buried deep inside.

I stop in front of the pack house, staring at the front porch. I didn't feel like going inside.

Before I can think too hard about it, I continue down the road.

The clinic soon comes into view. I sigh at the sight, knowing already by the fresh scent, that Leo was inside. Just as I thought, he is in the hallway, his head buried within his hands.

I pause at the sight. Sorrow always comes from Leo. But there was another sadness that exerted from his pores. He raises his head to look up at me.

"Soraya," his voice sounds tired. His appearance matches mom. Shadowed eyes and nervous hands.

"Hey Leo." I sit next to him, looking down the hallway, wondering what he was doing within the clinic so early.

He leans back and sighs, running his hand through his hair and adjusting his glasses. His body sags against the back of the bench. I'm about to speak when Schulman silently exits a room, closing the door softly behind him.

"Good morning Soraya," he hobbles next to me, groaning at the effort it takes to bend his body and sit down. I look at both the males, but Schulman answers my thoughts.

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