An Apple A Day

"You've a somber look upon you," Ash was ever as discerning as she was gentle, those wary eyes finding mine, like flashing green sirens detecting the slightest trace of distress. "I shall not pry should you wish not to think of the moment for any longer. Instead, with concern, I ask, are you alright, Master?"

Extra diligent today, I see. I barely twisted the latch and bolt on the door, and already so eager she was to jump into the role of nurse, therapist, my own personal patron saint. 

"I'm fine, Ash," I said to her, turning my somberness into a smirk. "He's annoying, he's irritating, but I'll live. Besides, it's good news, means he hasn't completely taken over yet." 

Yet.

Oh, how fast that word suddenly became something that could churn my stomach so easily. It's like a big bad thunderstorm looming over in the distant horizon, threatening to thunder, threatening to storm, except it hasn't… not just yet.