Note: This drabble was written on April 21, but was not posted till the 22nd, on account of I totally forgot to type it up.
Pit
"Sam, I know you’re there. Are you all right?"
It’s a struggle not to pick up the reciever, but you manage.
"This is ridiculous. If you don’t want help, I’m not going beat myself up trying to give it."
You grab the phone. "Alice!"
Dial tone. You held your bluff just a moment too long. The regret is immediate, but you can’t swallow your pride enough to call her. Her call was an offer; your call back would be begging.
You’ll have to be okay on your own.
Or not okay. In the end, the universe doesn’t care either way.
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