After the door was closed, Clyde let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and lifted his hand to his head. His long fingers pressed against his temple as though he could push the pain away, but the throbbing only grew sharper.
His cool expression twisted in discomfort. The tendons in his neck bulged from the pain.
He leaned forward slightly, one palm covering his forehead while the other clutched the edge of the table. His lips moved silently, a faint hiss escaping when the pressure in his skull peaked, sending a stabbing jolt behind his eyes.
He had been determined not to let Micah see it; the last thing he wanted was to make the boy more worried than he was. Not to mention, his grandfather had demanded he leave; how could he allow Micah to see him like this? Micah would certainly insist on staying, making the situation worse for himself.
