For Eric, a night’s slumber was nearing impossible since his dear friend’s heart had been ensnared by the dreaded thorns. Whenever he tucked himself beneath his quilts and closed his eyes, he was tormented with nightmares: visions of Alan’s feeble heart – sheared into ribbons and slick with fresh blood – were fixed quite permanently in the back of his mind. It influenced his every action lately. 

Especially in light of his “research”. 

Eric merely smiled at him, and replied without missing a beat, “Work has been kickin’ m’ erse.” But his eyes told a much darker truth.