Isekais Don't Exist, You're Just Trapped in a Social Experiment

3. Wrath of a Fox

⚠️ Warning/ Sexual content ahead ⚠️ 

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What am I doing here?

It's been running through your head like clockwork every half hour, give or take. For some reason, you found yourself sitting at the bar with a drink for over an hour engaging in one sided conversation with an insistent and less than interesting guy that spotted you were alone.

By "less than interesting", you mostly mean that he's a walking Shakespearean monologue. He wasn't interested in you, he was more interested in advertising himself to find a companion for a "fun" night.

Normally you'd just leave, but you found yourself comfortable even though you had to tune out his monologuing about money, credit, and how cryptocurrencies were stupid and in fact not the future.

At least with that last one, he had something going for him beyond his tendency to talk a mile a minute.

It's been a few months since your dream of the Avidya forest. You were sure it was a dream now, and although you initially tried to chase it, you gave up and returned to the usual monotony of work life and solitude.

But only a little.

Your therapy session earlier that week, which you were just barely managing to pay off, still had you reeling after you openly admitted how alone you were. You told them everything about your dream, about the character you saw in there and how he made you feel in his presence.

You haven't told them you want to die, but you did express the odd empty sensation of feeling like you were the walking dead. Despite yourself, you told them about the flurry of flip-flop emotions conjured up by being with Tighnari in your dream.

They laughed.

You were thoroughly embarrassed hearing them say he was your brains attempt at visualizing a potential long-term partner. Basically, they were saying you had a crush on his type.

Bunny Boy with the sarcastic comments and a know-all-air to him...? Somehow I can't see that being the truth. I barely got to know him in my dream. He was a complete stranger, an overly caring yet strangely rude weird one at that.

He's not my type.

And now here you are. In bed with someone you definitely aren't attracted to, but exudes zero traits similar to Tighnari...not that you were looking for someone like Tighnari or anything.

This guy looks cheap- maybe not in the quality of his clothes, but definitely in the style he chose to put on. The best you could describe it was modern gaudiness, like a discounted and less attractive version of that one celebrity from that superhero movie with the flying metal suit.

You weren't trying to prove anything or combat the suggestion that you had chronic loneliness by following the guy home. It was almost too easy to accept his invitation to return to his hotel room, even though you knew you had work early the next morning. You'd never done something like this before, but you weren't planning on telling the guy who's name you didn't bother to remember either. Not when he was already underneath you.

You didn't care about anything he had to say, he was just lucky he found someone trying to find a way to smother the unfeeling void inside themself. It was exhausting being so apathetic all the time.

Sex was the only thing you could think of to make you feel something besides misery.

Your hands fist into the sheets of the mattress, accommodating to his touch as your body is attacked from corners you never thought could feel so sensitive. His hand crawls up your stomach, pressing into the skin and distracting you from your spiraling thoughts. It pulls you away from your reservations and thoughts of shame every time you think about a stranger's hands on you.