Worries

Veil asked the windows to be rolled down and she reveled in the feeling of the cold air caressing her face. She put her hands outside the car, her fingertips having an alluring tug with the air. Veil was in control more than half the time, but it made her only feel worse.

Withdrawing her hand, she sank into the seat, thinking about how difficult it was to be the driver of her life in real-time. She was in a tug with the cosmos, yet it kept flinging her in every direction. First, it was her father who had fallen ill at a moment when everything wasn't rosy, then her hunt for a job that almost took a whole year.

“Where's your mind at, Veil?” Orleans’ voice fleeced over to her and she shook her head subtly.

“It's just one of those days,” she breathed, sinking further into the seat.

“Is it your boss again?”

“No,” Veil answered, shaking her head. Although it was indisputable that Anders was a lot of things, she couldn't pin this on him. In fact, he had made things a tad better for her by en