Erasmi Frost sat on a comfortable couch as he stared at the man asleep on the bed. The air hung heavy with the scent of age and illness, a palpable tension that seemed to thicken as the old man lay on his deathbed.
Even as he sat there stoically, with nary an expression on his face, his insides were a mess. He'd thought he had hardened his heart to the old man, but as his emotions churned, he knew it was not the truth. Their time had been cut short, first by his accident and then by this.. and now that it had almost run out, Erasmi realized that this weight of grievances he carried might forever remain unresolved.
He watched silently as the old man's eyes opened, and slowly searched the room, before lighting up a bit as he stared at him. He sighed," Demetri is on his way with the others, old man. You'll have to make do with me until then. Save your strength."