I don't want to have this talk, I'm already having an annoying day. Adding fuel to my mood would make me explode any minute. The strings woven together are tugging for a desperate removal. This conservation will be the catharsis it needs.
"It's nothing," I forced out. "Can we not talk about it? I was just being paranoid"
"Something like that doesn't mean you're paranoid, Em"
"Right," I hung my bag on my shoulder and grabbed my jacket. "So what if the entire room was remodeled? That's just it"
"You know this is the closest to any contact in the past year"
I stopped instantly at his words, and a moment of silence passed before I leaned against the wall. "Like I said it's nothing" I murmured, the shift in my tone evident, more overpowered by the storming emotions about to crawl out of me. It's like a can of worms has been opened.
