NARRATOR'S POV
The door creaked open, Lachesis' long fingers tightly wrapped around the knob. The beating of the young man's heart is as slow as the motion of the door in his front. He clenched his jaws, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed thickly. All the while sweat formed in the side of his face, in the corner of this worried emerald orbs. He watched Rachelle closely. Fear embraced him even further, burying him down in its deeps.
All this time, he longs for her, he feared losing her more than anything in the world.
If she finds out.
If she hated him.
If she gazed towards his direction with disgust in her eyes.
Will he be able to take it? Will he be able to endure?
At this point, he wanted to stop breathing. He wanted to stop existing. To greet death like a friend, oh how sweet that might feel compared to this situation.
Too bad the serum forbid him to.
