'Doubts. Why am I having doubts? This emotion, this feeling of incertitude. I picked the best option, I chose myself, I chose my happiness… why then, why does this burns so deeply. I left and we spoke, why then, why didn't he do anything, why were my feelings left untouched. Am I truly unneeded?'
"Drop the look," said a soft but manly voice, "-doesn't look great."
"Artanos, it's you," returned a sharper response, "-back from the campaign?"
"I wish," a sweat-ridden cloth landed, "-man, everything's coming together nicely, everything except you," a chair scraped on two-foot and dropped, "-Gophy, what's wrong?"
"I don't know," she returned, "-I guess I have remaining feelings of my past life. It's only when something so commonplace is lost that its importance is truly shown. Very cliché, don't you think?" a half-hearted smile propped, "-enough about my insecurities, what about my Romeo?" she leaned and caressed his cheeks, "-you look tired."
