Zeriel's grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white, his body rigid with the weight of the emotions swirling inside him. He didn't know where he was going, nor did he care. The car moved through the city like a lifeless machine, guided by his instincts and his anger. Every street sign, every turn, felt irrelevant. His mind was far too consumed by the image of Alisha, laughing and chatting with Ryan. Ryan, that damn friend of hers,while he sat in his car, attempting to piece together the wreckage of his own emotions.
Jealousy clawed at him, gnawing away at his chest. Why was she so at ease with him? Why was she enjoying herself so effortlessly, so casually, when he had been agonizing over his mistakes, trying to find the right words to apologize? He had been nothing but open with her about his struggles, about his demons, and yet she was with him, making light of it all with Ryan.
