Fear

Andre had gone past the beginning stages of looming headache.

He was now in a state where the sides of his head were pounding incessantly and his vision was blurry as he stared at the multiple figures on the screen. His glasses which he picked again after so many months were tossed carelessly beside the laptop looking as useless as they had been to his burning eyes.

He hadn't felt this kind of migraine in a while, but then, neither had he engaged in the kind of tedious activity he had done the previous day which could have been life threatening if he hadn't built his muscles in the gym.

After those hours of rough sex and taking Clara to her room, he had driven aimlessly under the influence of fear and rage at himself, a combination which had been more dangerous than alcohol. It would have been better if he were intoxicated by a chemical which was bound to wash off with time.

Because hours of long drive hadn't made his mood any better, but had instead offered him time to think about