Caesar sighed and dropped his head back against the wall.
He crossed his legs, his fingers interlocked and shut his eyes. He would wait there, and once it was evening, he would leave and come back again in the morning. He wouldn't stop doing this until he'd made sure she was fine.
Around the corner, Roman, who had made a near-complete recovery, stood, his gaze fixed on him. He wasn't sure if he should approach, but knowing the man might just need someone to talk to, he eventually walked up to him.
Caesar knew he was there, right before him, but he didn't say a word or even made an attempt to spare him a glance. His eyes were still closed, letting the older man know that he didn't care if he was there or not.
"Well, I'll sit down then." Roman sat down, his hands hidden inside the pocket of his sweatpants. His head was covered by the heavy puffy jacket he wore.
"I'm not sure why I'm feeling cold, but I don't like the feeling," he said.