He really ought to do something about that anxiety, JC thought, watching his friend jog around the apartment, cleaning, cooking, and constantly glancing at the clock. Jonah Green hadn’t slept a wink that night, in contrast to the object of his worry, who had shambled off to her room around seven o’ clock. Admittedly, JC hadn’t slept either, though he had every intention of blaming it on the Smoker’s fussing. Unlike Jo, the thinner man was definitely feeling the time of morning; he yawned, leaning against the arm of the couch and propping his chin on his palm, carefully arching the long, red things that used to be his fingers back so as not to cut his face.
“Really, Jo, dusting’s not going to make this go any faster…” he sighed, “She’s probably going to sleep in anyways.”
“I know.” The taller boy didn’t miss a beat, and didn’t stop dusting.
“So why are you doing this again?” Th