I opened my mouth, one hand pressing against the mattress as I started to get up.
"Sit."
I sat back down.
"….."
I didn't even know why I just sat down.
But I just did.
Now I wanted to stand up, but my legs refused to listen to me.
There was something about the pressure coming from him that made it difficult to refuse. Even with the glass between us, I found myself straightening a little as he approached the chair.
He wore a dark blazer, with a hat that he removed before sitting down. A walking stick rested in his other hand.
Placing its tip against the floor, he settled both hands over the knob and looked at me.
"I know you must be busy."
His voice was warm, yet it carried a certain authority to it that made it hard for me to speak.
"For that reason, I'll make this short."
Actually, there's no need.
I had quite a lot of time.
A month or two, apparently.
But I didn't say that.
