Lying was not the strong suit of Day; he hated it. But the looks were so heavy on him, the help so oppressive that he made believe everything was fine. His legs were progressing, while he felt like he was losing his balance when he was standing. The prince, the son of the Lord, could not give up. Not in front of his children. He made people believe that everything was fine; the lie would become true by telling it. Day was sure it was. The first days of recovery were hard, the legs of the blond not even supporting him. Nyx had attended him, never complaining, taking him around the room over and over again. Like a child who was taught to walk. But even though his legs had ended up supporting his weight, the biggest problem was his eyes. Today, his stitches were going to be taken out.
"You have to drink this," Toxin told him, grabbing his hand, resting it on the glass he was holding.
Day brought it to his lips, but the smell made him frown.
