KyraLawliet

“Hey… Can I talk to you?” Dave looks up from his laptop, eyes uncovered so that two crimson irises stare at you. He nods though, so you enter and sit down beside him on the couch. You don’t speak for a while, and he doesn’t push you. “I have a chemotherapy thing tomorrow,” you say. “I haven’t had much because we didn’t have the money back home. And hey, you barely know me, so—” “Whatever you need,” he interrupts. “What?” “I have money. I have lots of money. I’m not going to miss a few thousand or whatever it costs, I don’t k