Joel watches as you glumly ride on your horse, looking down with a lack of confidence and enthusiasm. It was his fault. All of it.

He was afraid but he hid it behind his tough exterior. He was afraid of loving again. His baby mother had left a dent on him. And the death of Tess made him spiral with the topic of love.

It didn’t help him that you were half his age. A 22 year woman. Smart, strong, resilient. He loved that for you. But he can’t bear to embrace his feelings for you.

He and you were afraid that you wouldn’t be held without feeling hurt.

There’s things he’d like to express to you. But he’d rather let you live without feeling the burden on his love for you. Stupid, he tells himself. Stupid for telling you that you mean nothing to him. Stupid for allowing you to be in his circle for too long. Stupid for letting go on too long.

He’s felt your skin on his fingertips on endless nights. Making you feel loved, lighting your body with ecstasy. But yet, he can’t even acknowledge the fact his heart nearly implodes at the mention of you.

“Take this left and we’ll be at the watchtower.” He clears his throat, averting his eyes.