Sebastian turned to look at him. He was praying for forgiveness because he killed his best friend Leo, but said to Jaysen, “You are drunk. You should not drink with epilepsy.” He was thankful that he was just completing his prayer, rose to his feet and stepped over to where Jaysen was swaying. “Let me help you to your room.”
Jaysen shook his head – not as if he didn’t need help, but did not want to leave.
“¿Que, pues?”
Again Jaysen shook his head. “No fucking Spanish,” he paused, “I need to tell you something,” his voice earnest regardless of his condition. Trying to keep his composure, which wasn’t easy; Sebastian helped him to a bedside chair. Jaysen looked at the former doctor with sincere eyes, eyes that told a hidden story, but those of which Sebastian could not decipher as the man himself, sat on the edge of his bed.
“Are you going to tell me?” Sebastian waited patiently, knowing that his friend was intoxicated. |
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