You make me shy
Liam woke up early the next morning exhausted. He hadn’t gotten much sleep at all, not after all his conversations. Especially the one with Griffon that kept replaying in his head over and over again. Basically he just wanted it to stop. But that wouldn’t happen.
So, instead, he’s sitting in the dining hall eating a bowl of lumpy oatmeal (which had looked appetizing but he was sadly mistaken). His notebook is open beside him, as well as a pencil. There’s a poem on the paper, one he had worked on halfway through this morning before giving up and deciding it wasn’t good enough.
(pretend there’s a poem here because all I can think about are sad ones I’ve recently written and they won’t work here)
He sighs and plays with his spoon, leery of the other people in the hall. Preferring to sit in the corner by himself.