Logan was shaking profusely, diving his eyes into his shirt as if he could prevent the pouring tears.
Each time he breathed, the world would thrum—rippling like an open pond reacting to thrown pebbles.
Pixel hovered past the living room, over to Logan's shoulder. Restrainedly, she traced her hand close to him, then stopped. "I understand completely how you're feeling in this moment, but you need to fight it. Not just for yourself, but for those that care about you.
Throw away all inhibition and face your fears, and you'll live the life you want."
Logan's chin brushed against his shirt, nuzzled tightly into his chest. Turning just a tinge, he accepted her gaze. "That's easy for you to say. This isn't your mind you have to venture, nor is it your trauma."
