Stacy's POV
The days had become more intense than I had expected. The fact that he was distant and was always found scribbling at night was something I didn't expect.
"What the hell are you even writing?" I walked out of the bathroom with my nightgown as I used the towel to dry my face. He ignored me, his eyes focused on the diary in his hands.
I rolled my eyes dramatically. I didn't have time for his words, and I had a lot of things I was trying to process in my head.
"I'll be going to the store tomorrow," he explained, making me sigh. I was shocked he told me about it, but then I guess he was slowly getting used to it.
"Alright…" I answered, "Is there anything you'd like me to do?"
He finally lifted his eyes from whatever he was scribbling and stared at me. "Not really. I'll be quick."
I shook my head. "Are you sure? Because the last time you spent an awfully long amount of time. You don't have to tell me you'll return on time; we both know that's a lie."
