(September)
Danny couldn't even remember how long he'd been playing football with his friends. All he felt now, as he finally sat down to rest, was his ragged breathing and the adrenaline that had been helping him push through his exhaustion slowly, bit by bit, fading away. His shirt clung damply to his skin— not just from sweat. He had poured cold water over himself, from head to toe.
"I'm heading back to the dorm first."
One of his friends said, and as if Danny had already been overstimulated enough, he simply waved a hand without replying. His gaze stayed lowered, his breathing still uneven. That familiar throb in his head again, though not as relentless as before he had started taking his medication.
