*** SEBASTIAN I wake up from a dreamless sleep. I slowly open my eyes and stare at the ceiling with a blurred layer in front of my vision. The shadows on the wall are of small rain splatters from my window. Is it really fucking raining outside? God dammit. I push my body up, but fall back down again. Fuck—I drank way too much last night, and I can feel it pounding in my head and drying my mouth. After trying to get up a few more times, I finally sit up and feel the blood travel down from my head to the rest of my body, making me feel even shittier. I don't remember much about what happened last night. Either that, or I can't figure

**I am now sitting on my bed in the guest house, staring at my computer screen with a vacancy in my eyes. It is afternoon, and Loretta is back and making a late lunch in the kitchen. She senses the tense air that still lingers around the main house, but she doesn't ask any questions about it. Either that, or she seems to know more than I do.I haven't even started packing for Seattle yet; everything seems to be happening all at once and so quickly I'm not sure where to begin. So, of course, the best option is to sit and make absolutely no progress in my bed.After Fiona was dissed by Sebastian, she stormed off into the dining room without saying a word, and Elizabeth followed. For a moment, I stood there dumbfounded and wondered, again, if I should tell them the reaso

**I step aside and invite Sebastian into my hotel room. My fingers tap nervously against the ivory wood of the door, and my eyes flicker back and forth from him to the rest of the room as he pushes himself off from the door frame to let himself inside. The only sound comes from the rain outside. I close the door gently, "If I knew you'd be coming by I would have cleaned up a bit," I admit shyly. "What is there to clean?" he replies, scooting the desk chair in. I chuckle, "Yes, I guess you're right." He makes his way to my bed and sits down comfortably on the edge, the complete opposite of what I'm feeling right now. I try to study his face without being too invasive--he's calm, content, but a little eager.

Wednesday seemed like it couldn't come soon enough. Perhaps because it's because we're still on our break from engaging with the media like we were sent here to do. Either that, or I've been anxiously awaiting to go to therapy with Sebastian. What kills me is not being able to sit in the room and hear anything he does decide to disclose. Of course, I'm not going to become intrusive and ask him questions about his childhood or anything pertaining to that, as it's obviously a sensitive subject—the "bathroom incident" adds truth to that. But knowing that this is our third week here and we've already come to know each other at this level, from becoming lost in the forest together to handing a group of bikers inside a bar in the middle of nowhere, and finally to Sebastian being so vulnerable in my hold at 1 in the morning when no one else, not even his family, knew the extent of his pain

Dr. Bakura stares at me with a look that indicates she's thinking quite hard about what I have said. However, my thoughts are occupied on how cold I suddenly feel. Shit, so this is what it's like to open up about your past? If so, I don't know how much longer I'll be able to do it without completely losing my shit. Then again, was I better off hiding it and allowing that dark cloud of closure to linger over me? "You know, your silence is kind of freaking me out," I point out, trying to lighten the tense air. "Is this something that therapists do?" It's obvious she doesn't get my joke. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sebastian. I'm just trying to put the pieces together from what you have told me." She takes her notepad and starts writing some