His eyes ached, and it felt like if he didn’t press on his temples constantly, the sharp zinging would come right back. He’d only had a crying headache like this once or twice, and he wasn’t a fan. He wanted the damn thing to go away. But other than that, he felt… strangely better. He was lighter inside than he’d been in absolutely years, and whatever had happened the night before had washed away all the shit he’d been bottling up. Is that even possible? He closed his eyes against the headache and squished his face back into the pillow. The silence didn’t bother him. The thoughts of Brad and the new guy bothered him a little, but he found it took a lot of concentrating to really feel the sting. He was warm and comfortable, and the vague chirp of birds from the other side of the window was relaxing rather than annoying, which the birds outside his window at home had been for months. He felt, just, better. There was no other way to describe it. He couldn’t believe one stupid tantrum—and of course tossing his phone off a freaking ravine—had made such a difference.
