Evan shook his head, but decided not to go into it anymore. I was there. I wasn't dreaming. Why doesn't anybody fucking believe me. There was a time and a place to explain his actions and what he saw, that that in Dr. Spinelli's office. He was, after all, convinced that he was going crazy. Time just didn't slow down. You didn't just walk in on your best friend and his...ex? fucking. It just didn't happen. There was something wrong with him.
Maybe there was something wrong with Dietre too. What if Evan was about to crack at any second and kill everyone near him? His heart immediately began to quicken as he thought this, though he tried to push it out just as fast as it came on. He wasn't going to kill anyone. He didn't even know if D did. Fuck.
"Anyways. The television works," he forced, rubbing his forehead as he tried to gain composure. "I'll probably order some take out in a bit or something."