So, there he was, tossing and turning, unable to catch a wink of sleep. Initially, Tyrone thought it was no big deal. His heart wasn't aching or anything, but he constantly had this nagging feeling, like there was something stuck in his chest that he couldn't get rid of. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find a way to let it out, so he just buried himself in work. Whenever Snow butted heads with him, he'd take it out on her.

For the past few days, Tyrone hadn't bothered reaching out to Quintessa. He didn't give it much thought. Why should he be the first to swallow his pride and go to Quintessa? Not this time.

Every now and then, he'd recall Quintessa's words "Physical intimacy, I'm in. But if you're playing for keeps, count me out!"

And Tyrone would think, fine, I don't need love. Physical company is all I want from you.

But deep down, he couldn't accept it.

Days went by, and Tyrone couldn't even tell what he really wanted anymore.

Mrs. York noticed Tyrone's gloomy appearance and the troubled look in his eyes. She nudged his shoulder, "You've been having issues with her, haven't you?"

Tyrone didn't respond or bother to speak up. What issues? It's not like they were actually together in the first place.

After a moment, Tyrone murmured, "Mom, I'm feeling down."

"I can see that."

like I

whom?" Mrs. York

stared at the ceiling and calmly said,

York's curiosity faded, "Oh, well, that's normal,

"What do you mean?"

her throat, changing the subject. "Did you fight with

fight. I thought I was

she rejects me." Tyrone wished they had fought; at least that would mean some interaction. But

away so effortlessly,

good to her, but have you asked if she

to her; she has

kidding me? Where's this

what makes you so

just glaring

chill from his gaze,

e

the best. How

thinking? You don't even understand it

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