TESSA.
I forced myself to breathe and set my worries aside, at least for the moment. Whatever was happening, whatever felt off, I couldn't keep spiraling like this. I needed something familiar. Something that belonged to me.
I reached for my bag and began rummaging through it, fingers pushing past items that felt oddly foreign in my hands. Lip balm. A folded scarf. A sketch pencil I didn't remember putting there. It took far longer than it should have before my fingers finally brushed against the edge of my drawing book.
I paused.
Why was it buried so deep?
A strange knot formed in my chest as I pulled it out, the worn cover instantly grounding me. The moment I saw it, something inside me eased, like a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding finally escaping my lungs.
My drawing book.
My favorite thing in the world.
My life.
My career.
My everything.
