Pink Pansies ✺ A Pedro Pascal A.U.

Chapter 17: That's Emi Code for 'I Love It'

In the wake of our phone call I tried to check in with myself. Deep breaths and attempts to untangle my thoughts availed me nothing. My head felt so scattered, it was like cleaning a room without putting anything away. I knew that seeing Pedro would make me feel good, but was it good for me? That was an important distinction that I currently failed to grasp.

Although we had breached that initial phase of determining whether or not this was worth pursuing, we were still getting to know one another. After all, it had only been a couple of weeks.

If I followed the "it's too soon for him to see you like this" trail of thought, the end result my mind conjured was painful. I'd overwhelm him and that would provide justification for cutting himself loose. This budding connection would wilt and wither away.

But if I followed the "he seemed happy at the prospect of coming over" trail, something inside me truly believed that this would become serious. I enjoyed my time with him, but I wasn't sure if I could handle serious at this point in my life. There was still a part (a very tiny part) of me that wanted to see what, or who, else was out there.

Both scenarios activated my fight or flight response, albeit in different ways. I felt like we were at the sweet spot in the beginning of something, and I wanted to live there. I knew it wasn't possible though. Having him over was taking a step out of that space but I still didn't know which direction it would take us.

Things did feel different, but that could easily be attributed to the fact that our interactions had been relegated to the phone because of our busy schedules. Truthfully, I had only seen him twice in person, and I opened myself up to the third time being like this? With my hair a mess, body bloated and achy, and pimples along my jawline? Unstable emotions and disorganized thoughts? Clinging onto my heating pad for dear life while I drank lukewarm tea and watched trash tv? What was I thinking?

My phone vibrated, pulling me out of my downward spiral and into the present.

Pedro: I'm glad I still get to see you tonight.

Divine timing? I laughed out loud. It was nearly impossible to fight the urge to ask.

Emi: Really?

I bit my fingernail as I watched the bubble of ellipsis, anxiously awaiting his response.

Pedro: Yeah, even if you are kind of gross.

I rolled my eyes, imagining his smirk as he typed that out.

Emi: Shouldn't you be working?

Pedro: It's hard to focus when my head is filled with thoughts of you.

A blush crept onto my face and a heat seeped into the pit of my stomach. I didn't like that he had that effect on me, especially over text. Perhaps my raging hormones had a part in this, but I doubted it.

Emi: I'm already nauseous, don't make it worse.

Pedro: That's Emi code for 'I love it'

What I disliked even more than the effect he had on me, was that he was aware of it. I was reminded of when we first met at the bar. He knew what a whispered compliment and a lingering glance could do. I was softened by it until I realized that was a bit naive of me, so I challenged him. I had begun to see that he was multifaceted but when this frisky and presumptuous part of him came out, the defiant and daring part of me did too.

Emi: Shut up.
          When do you think you'll be done?

Pedro: Probably in an hour or so. But I wanted to make a few stops before coming over.

My heart stumbled in my chest as I imagined him picking something up for me. I had no idea what he was referring to and that almost made it worse. My mind was already scrambled, it didn't need any more fuel to go completely haywire. I needed clarity.