Breaking Point of Insanity

“But that would be implying that she was asleep,” Sin, my ever loyal guard dog once again spoke in my honor. Sin Catherwood, a tall boy with taunt muscles that flexed visibly through the cotton of his tee-shirt. He always seemed more feline to me, even for his big built he moved gracefully. Eyes full of deep summer brown honey in contrast to his ebony hair that he let grow way too long over his face. He was only a year older than me but seemed more man than boy. He’s spoken in my defense more times than I could count the times he’s actually talked to me. We have this sort of alliance, one I don’t fully understand the rules to yet.