It had been three days after the burial, and the silence still lingered without words.
Eden lay still in bed, staring at the ceiling. He hadn't spoken for a while now; he didn't. He only stared at the ceiling, his mind flooding with the idea of Felix leaving.
He had left without words. Without telling him or without any news of where he was going or when he'd come back. And the worst part was that Eden didn't really need all that information because he knew what was happening.
He knew why he left: because he didn't wish to take him down. He liked him that much to leave and let Eden live. And that was the worst part.
"Come and eat at least!" Lenny was moving around his bed that morning, trying to pull him out of bed. "Come out already! You can't be like this forever!"
Eden closed his eyes. "Let me rest for a few seconds... I promise I'll come out after that..."
"No! You keep saying that for days now!" The cat pulled him by the hand. "Get up now! Breakfast is ready."
