SAMANTHA’S POV

If I were eight and still believed fairies exist, I quickly would make a wish… two wishes. The first would be to know what was eating Lucas up and the second wish would be to make me as strong as I was when the contract kicked off and leave him to his liquor. It hurt me that I cared and it hurt me even more that I could think of not caring.

I snatched the glass from his hands and some of its contents spilled on my hands, "Lucas…" I began "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

He tried to grab the glass from my hands but I lifted it further into the air. When he looked up, I couldn't tell if his eyes were swollen from tears or from drinking too much alcohol– my bet was on alcohol.

"Give me that," he said. He tried to stand up but staggered a little. I walked to the bedside and placed the glass on the lamp table. I walked back to the table, I hadn't felt this bad about anybody as I did right now.

Now that I was thinking about it, it dawned on me that I had not taken a closer look at Luca