08-11-2019, 02:13 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Selby was still recovering from his bout of illness. Despite his nausea and fever being gone, he was still very tired and achey, and a little lightheaded if he moved around too much.
Then Delilah’s words rang out, and before she even said a name, he knew she was speaking of Arrow. In fact, everything she was saying he’d already said to himself every day since she’d died. He knew it was his fault. He didn’t need anyone to point it out.
"It’s all on me," he rasped guiltily, heading towards Delilah. "I already knew it. They couldn’t have known, but I could have. It’s all on me. I should’ve been better. I’m sorry." And as he said those words, a familiar sense of nausea crept up his stomach, fueled by anxiety and guilt.
Then Delilah’s words rang out, and before she even said a name, he knew she was speaking of Arrow. In fact, everything she was saying he’d already said to himself every day since she’d died. He knew it was his fault. He didn’t need anyone to point it out.
"It’s all on me," he rasped guiltily, heading towards Delilah. "I already knew it. They couldn’t have known, but I could have. It’s all on me. I should’ve been better. I’m sorry." And as he said those words, a familiar sense of nausea crept up his stomach, fueled by anxiety and guilt.