Good or Evil
I wouldn't need you to be by yourself anyway if I'd found you like this, let alone after those calls.
"No. No. No leaving." I crouched down on the sofa, needing to let him go, hesitant to do so.
"Let's stay here."
Yet gawking troubled, Shaman fetched me a glass of water, then crouched down by me, clenching my hand.
As time passed, I relaxed, heeding as Shaman spoke about trivial stuffs in an effort to make me feel better.
For his aspect, he was relatively nice about my psycho phone calls. He proceeded striving to tease out an explanation, but when I lingered elusive, just mumbling I had reason to bother about him, he halted pushing—for now.
He proceeded cheering me up, telling me funny things as well as his normal political soliloquies, complaining about the outrageous rules and duplicity of the powers that be.
By late in the evening, I was relaxed again, left only with humiliation for the way I'd acted. Damn, I loathed that nephilim.