juice

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Theo said instead. He wasn’t sure if he even came here for water anymore. He wanted to be out of his bed, somewhere else for some time, meddling in something that could distract him from the places his thoughts would go to on nights like these. Drinking water was a distraction. Drinking juice was a better distraction; it was sweet, flavoured, unlike the water his mind would suffocate him in. It made him feel better than he would drinking water.

Something shifted in the hero’s expression.

“You said that already,” he said. He sounded accusing. The hero never accused.