To Perceive an Image

Nine: Images of His Room

The Image World, Friday, September 07, 2040, 3:33 AM

Words can't describe the feelings of utter discomfort that my entire body feels at the moment. I wanted to thank Flynn with a short sentence and get this situation over with. But, my mind cannot stop repeating the word 'perfect' as if on a loop. Not to mention, my body language is doing a great job of displaying my discomfort on a gold platter. We sit back on the swings after he received his fair share of a hug, and my awkward self makes us sit in awkward silence. What's worse is that I've been staring at him for a whole sixty seconds with my eyebrows furrowed. I appreciate his efforts at ignoring my uncomfortable staring.

One second, Flynn, my system needs an update. A reboot, if you will.

Another sixty seconds later, I accomplished gaining control of my body language. To remove the awkward tension created by yours truly, my mouth raises into the well-known social smile. Poor guy has enough shit to deal with, so let's not add my apathetic tendencies to that list. But I will say that my inner narcissist still found it in them to blush after hearing the compliment, but I'll blame it on the cold.

Giving him a genuine smile this time, Flynn doesn't hesitate to return his. He doesn't look at me for more than a second before shifting his gaze to anything but me. From the way he won't look at me for longer than necessary, talking to him feels one-sided. It's not like I'm that great at making eye contact either, but when the person you're speaking to doesn't look at you, the conversation dies within a short while. He is too tired to care, I will give him the benefit of the doubt. I'm here for two things and will not let my focus shift elsewhere. I didn't come here to make acquaintances.

Shivering because of the cold gust of wind passing by, I hug myself to create some heat. Wearing multiple layers still cannot defeat this world's cold weather. He must be used to it because when I look at Flynn, I notice that the cold air does not bother him at all, lucky.

"Well, thank you, and you're welcome," I said, nodding my head a few times. The tight-lipped smile that appeared as I spoke my words did not do well in that 'make her look genuine' department. I swear it isn't fake. The issue is my lack of another genuine-looking automatic smile.

He nods, smiling as a sign of appreciation, then stands up. Alhamdulillah, I can go home now if that's all the talking we need today. Although I wanted to talk about the whimsical house, I didn't mind coming back another time. I have a day off tomorrow, and I'll use it to my advantage for my situation.

Standing up, with grunts and struggles, I come face to chest with Flynn. Ban tall people, or give me a restraining order because this is embarrassing.

To be quite frank, I do not have a single clue about how to help him. I'm relying on what my instincts tell me, and I hope it turns out for the best. My hands clench at the thought of receiving hateful and blaming glares from thousands of people. One glare will hurt me, but a thousand glares will destroy me. I don't want that.

Going with my first instinct, I fill Flynn in. It's all for him, after all.

"So, um, I kind of have an idea. We can put this into action as soon as you feel comfortable. Because I will be honest, I don't know how to help you right now. This is all I can think of doing, at least for the time being." I explained, face hardening when the thoughts of this situation's severity surrounded me.

No, I will not start having a panic attack right now. I'll do that when I'm in the safety of my bed.

Raising an eyebrow, Flynn questions in a breathy voice, "And what would that idea be?"

Don't speak to me in a breathy voice, I might fall in love. Second off, I die over how he talks. Fuck yeah, someone who's well-spoken. Talk about my type.