~**(Third Person)**~
Two Days Later.
The clinking of cutlery filled the dining room, accompanied by the warm scent of spiced tea, freshly baked bread and thick beef gravy.
Meredith sat at her seat, eating slowly, with a soft, peaceful look. She poured a bit of honey over her oats, utterly unaware that Draven's eyes had been on her for the past two minutes, unblinking and unreadable.
He hadn't touched much of his food since breakfast started.
Every time she brought her spoon to her lips, he watched the rhythm. The easy, relaxed way she chewed on the food with her eyes taking in the plate of meat gravy.
It was the calm of someone with nothing gnawing at them. Nothing to confess.
Draven couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't watch Meredith continue to live as if everything was fine, like she was some innocent woman the world didn't like, when it was very clear she didn't love herself first.
"Meredith."
