The more he liked her, the more he feared losing her. This emotion almost perpetually hovered at the pit of his stomach, a suffocating pain that followed him like a shadow.
Hannah began to wonder if she had really given Arnold too little sense of security.
She patted his back, but before she could speak, Arnold perceived her intention, "It's my own problem, you don't have to feel guilty."
Hannah said no more, she could only hold the man's neck tightly, giving him comfort.
Time is a magical thing. It doesn't truly exist, yet it can erase many things, like feelings, pleasant memories, and past foolish acts.
Unfortunately, it cannot erase the hurts of one's youth.
Such hurts are ever-present, to accompany you for life, like demons watching over you, ever ready to burst forth and swallow all your sanity, dragging you into the abyss.
"Arnold, you need to know, I like you," she said.
