r.”draogavehisdisheveledhairanddroopyeyesadisapprovinglook.“whatareyoudoinginbed?it’sthemiddleoftheday.”

potterseemeddoubtfulifhewasreallyawake.heshookhisheadseveraltimes,untilheseemedonvineddraowasreallystandinginhisbedroom.“mindyourownbusiness,”hesaid,defensively.“whatthehereyouevendoinghere?”

“ifyoudidn’twantmehere,youwouldhaveputthewardsbakup.”

“youmadeitprettylear—ugh,youknowwhat,no.”drao’sheartsankatthetorturedexpressiononhisfae.“ifyouamehereforanotherfight,soyouanauseme—”

“i’msorry,”draoblurted.eventhoughhehadusedthosetwowordsmoreinthestfouryearsthaneverbeforeinhislife,theystillfeltfnonhistongue.hewathedarefullyaspotter’sfaewentbnk.

“you—what?”hestraightenedhimself,onehandslowlylosingintoafistontheduvet.“whatexatlyareyousorryfor?”

“i—”draohadnoideawheretobegin.itwasmorethanobviouspotterhadtroubletalkingaboutit.hehadtolddraosomuhabouthimself,abouthisthoughtsandfears,buthehadnevermentionedwhatlunahadtoldhim.“ihadnoideawhatyouweregoingthrough,”hesaidquietly.

theeffetthesewordshadonpotterwasinstantaneous.apprehensionloudedhisfeaturesashismuslesvisiblylenhed.“whatareyoutalkingabout?”heasked,histonewary.

“don’tgetmad,”draosaid,raisinghishands.“shedidn’twanttotellmeatfirst.shesaidyou’retheoneishouldbetalking—”

“she,who?”