@inkedblueprints Seemed like days that Whip waited. Patience wasn't one of his strong suits. Yemen always gave him the jitters, wasn't as if it was one of the safest places. Not that the places he lived were any safer. The tapping of his anxious foot on the dirt ground caused other prisoners to stare at him. He didn't care, his anxiety was through the roof. "Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath as he slicked shaky fingers through his shaggy hair. The heat poured down on the prison, which only made being outside all the more unbearable. And the worst part was that he was in his head for most of the time, always doubting if Michael really needed him. Always doubting his own loyalty and if he'd screw things up, or when he would. Being in his head made his time in this prison unfathomable.
