DAYA'S POV.
3 MONTHS LATER.
The floor was cold and hard. An apt metaphor for my life right now, because here I sat head thumping loudly and repeatedly at my mate's wooden door, knuckles aching from the harsh and loud knocking, palms tingling from how hard it hit the door.
"Regulus, please. Open the door. I know you're in there. You can't hide from me forever." The tiredness in my voice was reminiscent of the night shifts I took in the hospital. Why wouldn't he open the goddamn door?
"It's not the end of the world, and there's so much we can do together even without your sight. The bond won't grow if we don't act on it." The silence was deafening. Why did I say it like that? He would think the bond was the only reason I hounded him. Why wouldn't he see the truth? What more could be said to someone as stubborn as him? Argh!
