<strong>Name: </strong>Jack Harth<br/><strong>Time: </strong>About eight months ago<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Elena<br/><br/><strong>"If you believe you can't, then of course you can't. "</strong>Although just after saying that, he realized just how much of a hopeless optimist he sounded like. Still, it was true.<strong>"Doing anything right means giving yourself the chance to do it."</strong><br/><br/>When the glass breaks, he frowns, and goes over to the floor. He looks from her shaking hands, towards the glass shards as she struggles to get them. Why in the hell were her hands shaking so much? Was she upset or nervous? He was pretty certain that wasn't a craving for alcohol. Not wanting to just stand there, though, he would move to pick up the glass chunks.<strong>"Your hands are shaking. You'll get cut. Just pick up the food, alright?"</strong>Their was both sternness and caring in his voice. He was basically commanding her, but out of a genuine desire to ensure she didn't get hurt.