"What's wrong, Zylus? Say something." Clare thought he was in sudden trouble.
"It's nothing."
"I see."
Clare heard every drip of water that fell into the bathtub, but it wasn't coming from the shower. It came from his tears and the realization that all of this had been his fault.
"H-he loved to fight, Clare." Zylus said, "I ruined it."
"You couldn't have done anything; you just have to complete this for now."
"You're right." He cleared away his tears, smashing against the right side of his Bathtub.
Zylus didn't feel any physical pain, but he now felt more emotional than ever. He's still an eighteen-year-old boy, and males have feelings, too. But he couldn't show it, because this mission was too severe.
Zylus stared into the washroom's roof one more time, "I'm sorry, Emilia," he paused, "But I need to isolate myself. I might not be able to follow up on our promise."
Zylus curled up, "I hate it, I hate my life." He whispered.
