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THE EMPTY SHELLS
Garelt covered his mouth as he yawned again. He lost count of how many times it has been already since he left his room.
He was walking down the hallway with Ryan. Garelt barely got the time to wash up and jump into the first denim jeans and hoodie that he found before Ryan half dragged and half carried him out of the room. On the other hand, Ryan was back into his uniform, his deep-navy hair carefully combed to either side of his temples.
Garelt always wondered how Ryan managed to keep his uniform ironed throughout the day. They walked like polar opposites down the hallway, heading to the Alpha’s office.
“You should have at least let me do my hair,” Garelt whined, stopping by to see his reflection in a window arrayed down the hallway. <
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