To Perceive an Image

Thirty-Six: Images of a Realistic Response

The Image World, September 25, 2040, 1:00 AM

Silence.

More silence.

What's the form of operation where you count the sum of something?

Oh, addition.

More silence filled the air.

"Not now, Flynn. We have to get this over with first," I keep my gaze pointed at my hands because I feel shame.

Honesty is key.

He raises his hand, gesturing for me to help him up. Gripping his hand with all my strength, I helped the giant up, even though my strength turned out to be a terrible participant. I arranged his pillows to cushion his back. We can't have two people with spinal issues here. Stop the jokes.

The same hand I held moments ago grasps my wrist, stopping my attempt at returning to my chair. Well, it's his chair that I moved closer to the bed so I could sit nearby. My eyes widen for a fraction as they zero in on him.

"Can you sit on the bed?" I grant the sick man his wish. When I sit somewhat face-to-face with him, he speaks- more like mutters. "What if you don't like me by the time this is over?" the sudden drop in his voice caused the same drop in my mood.

"Why wouldn't I? I may have undiagnosed ADHD, but that applies to subjects that aren't people."

He gives me a slight smile before blessing me with the sound of his laugh. In my history, when people laugh at my words, it means they believe them. I don't know if that's the case because Flynn laughs at everything I say.

"Okay, I believe you on that. However, will you tell me why we aren't on the road to dating already? If your reasons are what I think they are, expect a pinch."

I clench my fists to use as weapons, "pinch where?"

"You'll see or feel, I guess."

"I'm not trusting you right now."

"Answer the question, Azail."

It's hard to prevent myself from showing irritation at his impatience, but I understand where he's coming from.

"Funny how we both are worried about the same thing," I begin. Flynn's jaw drops at a quicker rate than his temperature. He attempts to interrupt me, but my hand that flees to cover his mouth doesn't grant permission. "Before you fight me or pinch me, may I continue?" despite his boiling feelings, he nods.

Well, at least he's still respectful.

"The feelings that led me to my fears have a good chance of being those that led you to yours. It's not a matter of me doubting your loyalty, even at the level we are at right now. I hate doing shit without getting obstacles out of the way. Unless I remove the stress of this mission, as I've dubbed it, I won't allow myself to experience joy. Don't let my words lead you astray because I like you an embarrassing amount."

"May I kiss you?"

"WHAT?" I shushed after remembering the two sleeping people on the same floor.

"On the cheek," he reassures my hurrying tsunami of a heart attack.

I furrow my eyebrows at his sudden and strange request. "Uh, sure, but keep in mind that I'll have to itch my cheek after. Your stubble looks mighty itchy."

He took advantage of my laugh keeping me busy as the perfect time to lean forward, but I'm faster.

"Wait, you're sick. What the fuck?" I jump back, hands flying to cover my cheeks.