To Perceive an Image

Five: Images of Consequential Favors

TBD LOCATION September 06, 2040, 1:59 AM

The closer we got to Flynn's house, the bigger the lump in my throat grew. I haven't asked him about his injuries once. What if his mother sees them and grabs the closest sandal to slap me?

Let me at least gain a bit of sympathy from him and ask how he is. I better do this quickly because we're mere steps away from his front door. His mom might hear the noise and come down to check what's happening. If she gets angry, at least Flynn's compassion will have him provide a defendant's statement long enough to give me a few seconds to run.

"Um, how are your.... you know... injuries?" my voice that I had hoped would sound pitiful, sounds forced.

Why so awkward Azail? The least you can do is sound convincing.

Flynn chuckles, looking down before he looks up again. He halts his steps in front of the wooden door, and I do the same.

"The area you kneed me in is alright. If you asked me this question when it happened, I would've answered you with tears in my eyes." He looks at me for about a second before a loud laugh erupts from him, making him clutch his stomach.

Despite my cheeks adopting a pink color out of embarrassment, I took the time to listen to his laugh. Just like his smile, contagious and bright. But that's not what I'm concerned about. His eye looks bruised black and blue. The fear I have of his mother continues to linger around me. I have never and will never encounter this woman. And yet, the thought of her angry outburst causes shivers to pass through me.

"What about your eyes? Do they hurt? Please accept my sincerest apologies." I sounded pathetic; my voice had to quiver and give me away.

In a flash, Flynn stops laughing. He must've seen the fear because he answers my questions as fast as he can.

"They do hurt, but don't worry! I understand why you did it. You know, I'm not known for being stealthy. I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that. I'll take a few painkillers and sleep it away. Don't let this upset you please." his deep voice sounds like the softest thing ever. He looks a lot more upset than I do. A fellow Empath, love that for him. Don't be too empathetic, though, Rider, because some people don't deserve shit. Well, I'm glad he's fine. I wouldn't want to leave someone injured here without apologizing.

"I'll accept your apology if you answer my questions over a cup of tea," he suggests, smirking.

Where did the frowning person go?

Is he bribing me with tea, knowing I'm Arab and will eat that shit up?

Manipulative people deserve jail.

Arrest me, then.

Boy, I'm the one who has questions to ask and briberies to make. But okay, I'll bite.

"As long as you don't ask me math questions, then I'll agree," I joke. A terrible joke, but I blurt words out before thinking sometimes.

He chuckles, shaking his head.

What questions could he have for me? Do I look intelligent enough to answer them?

Unlocking the door, he gestures for me to go in first. Not standing the cold weather anymore, I take his offer without a second thought. Listen, I know Michigan will have snow in the upcoming months, but no one prepares you to see it in September.

I joke around when I feel the slightest gust of icy wind, deeming it winter in Maryanland. But here is a whole different story. The actual season exists here.

My eyes take the time to look around, observing the place. A brick fireplace facing me provides permeating heat to the connected living room and kitchen. A children's show playing on the TV accompanies the fire in providing luminosity. The burgundy maroon color on the walls of the first floor goes with the varying brown shades on the wooden floor. My attention focuses on the living room, its cozy feel emits comfortable energy. Not to forget, blankets and pillows of all colors lay wherever space exists. Most of them lay on the black leather couches, though. This must be one comfortable ass living room.