Iridian eventually sat up on the bed, and he took my hand into his, as he said, "I don't know how to handle you," he looked down at our hands intertwined, and I looked over at him as he continued, "and if you feel sorry for hurting others, why do you continue to do so?"

Using my thumb, I traced along the curves of his hand slowly. "I can't tell you," I stated, "not like this at least." I stared down at our hands as well, and I unconsciously tightened my grip a little. "It's not like I want to do this, but I have to," I said, my voice progressively got quieter with each word, eventually becoming a whisper. My grip tightened again, as I felt anger well up inside me, but it quickly subsided when I realized what exactly I had said. I stood up