Will watched Tessa and Jem; he saw their secret smiles and clandestine touches. He watched them "accidentally" brush hands at breakfast. He watched Jem whisper in her ear and heard her light laugh.
And it burned him. And it killed him. And every day it set him on fire.
Sometimes he'd catch her looking at him when she thought no one was watching and it was like hot coals being shoved down his throat. She looked at him, in those times, like she loved him. Like he was air and she was suffocating. Like he looked at her.
These looks gave him hope, which was the worst thing of all.
Hope was what kept him up all night wandering the streets. It was what kept his eyes following her every move. It was what tore him apart every time he looked at his parabatai.
He slumped down onto the library floor – his old sanctuary was forever haunted with memories of her. His head fell to his hands, his fingers ripping at his hair.
He wished he had never met Tessa Gray.