Alessander's P. O. V
The next morning, I didn't go to college, I had Irina sent away and made breakfast for the both of us.
I figured that he was just throwing a tantrum, because I had been leaving him at home alone, and wanted more time with me.
Maybe I'd fuck him enough to reset his attitude.
"Here, sit down, the food's almost done." I said, guiding him to the dinning table. His shirt was still stained from the wasted porridge last night, and his eyes had dark circles underneath.
I circled back to the kitchen and finished the omelettes I was making, and transfered it into the plate.
When I returned, he was exactly like I had left him, it made me worry if he was even blinking. I gave him the meal, but he didn't respond to it.
