~ NYSSA
Eric helped me clean up the cereal I'd poured all over my front door and the broken pieces of the plastic bowl.
He didn't seem bothered by it at all, and when I tried to help him. He just waved me off and told me to go inside and get cleaned.
It wasn't until I got to the bathroom and looked in the mirror that I realized just how terrible I looked.
I winced, taking in my expression in the mirror.
Eric must've been some kind of saint in his past life. How else could he have been able to look at me with my rough hair, scratches all over my face and arms and the tear streaks running down my cheeks and not laugh.
I wasn't even sure at what point the tears had fallen, but the unmistakable streaks down my cheeks told the story.
I washed up and changed into something more presentable—shorts and a shirt and headed back down the stairs.
