Odette's POV
I swear, I was losing my mind.
The room was too small, too hot, too… him.
Everywhere I turned, I could still smell the faint trace of smoke and pine from when we'd been in that car together — trapped in the same air, his silence louder than the engine itself. It clung to me, to my clothes, to my thoughts, like he'd branded his presence into the air just to drive me insane.
I wanted to scrub it out of the air, out of my lungs, out of my stupid head, but no matter how many times I paced across the floorboards, it followed me like a ghost.
God, why couldn't I stop thinking about him?
I kicked the edge of the bed so hard my toe screamed in protest. "Ow! Perfect. Just perfect. Add pain to the list, why don't you?" I hissed, half growling, half whimpering, because apparently I'd lost the ability to sound sane.
The mattress was next. Poor thing. I beat it like it had personally burned down my father's house.
"Stupid," whack.
"Arrogant," whack.
