By the end of the week the entire clubhouse looked exhausted and nobody carried it worse than Drake.
He barely slept anymore because every small sound dragged him awake instantly and most nights I caught him sitting at the kitchen table downstairs around three in the morning staring at patrol maps with dark circles under his eye.
“You’re gonna collapse eventually.” I muttered one night while walking into the kitchen half asleep.
“Not tonight.” Drake said without even looking up.
“You said that yesterday.” I said.
“And I was right.” He said.
I sighed while stealing the coffee mug from his hand before taking a sip myself.
“You’re becoming unbearable.” I said.
“Good. Means I’m paying attention.” He said.
Meanwhile the rest of the club slowly started functioning around the chao
