Dante

*Hours pass. The library's ambient lighting shifts to a dimmer, nighttime cycle. He doesn't move from his seat. His fingers finally stir, typing a query into the search bar with a slow, deliberate purpose: 'alexithymia'. He hits enter, his gaze fixed on the results, searching for an answer that isn't a feeling.*

*He stares at the screen, the clinical term feeling like a physical blow. Severe affective agnosia. It explains everything and nothing. His finger traces the words on the screen, a hollow, humorless laugh escaping him. So this is it. The answer isn't that Zane doesn't care. It's that he literally can't. He leans back in the chair, the fight finally draining out of him, leaving only a profound, aching exhaustion.*

*My mind is a mess. I don't understand why he's so upset. I did what I thought was right. I pace around the lab, my steps echoing in the silence. Finally, I sit down and do what I should have done hours ago. I look it up.*