[Trigger Warning: Vague mentions of s*ic*de. Read at your own discretion.]
Nancy helped him clean up. She had stopped herself from being surprised at his mood swings. Just now, he was sobbing his eyes out. Now, he helped her clean the kitchen. She glared at him from the corner of her eyes. She had so much to say to him, but she wasn't sure if it was the right timing.
"Samuel,"
She didn't care if it was the right timing.
"Nancy,"
He replied in his usual tone.
Nancy sat down on the couch wearily. He dried his hands and sat beside her, giving her all his attention.
"I don't understand you," Nancy told him, "I don't understand the big ass essay you read out to me." She added, "But I understand it has nothing to do with Bradley." She looked away, "As long as you're not doing this because of him, I think I can support you." She said unwillingly.
Samuel looked down, "That is a lie,"
