Part 52

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Author's Note: Oh man another chapter where they're working out personal shit, relationship shit, and character development shit. Idk I feel like these would bore you guys let me know cause I feel weird writing them sometimes.

---Sylvia---

"Can we talk?" he asked. Oh shit. Last night he'd witnessed me having a disoriented panic attack and I guess I'd really freaked him out. All day he's been acting odd, checking in randomly and not talking as much. He's obviously been thinking and I was scared it was about ending everything. What if I'd spooked him off?

I set the cereal back in the cupboard and balanced on my heels. He drummed his fingers against the edge of the kitchen table. Morning light flooded through the kitchen window, casting squared bars of light onto the tiled floor. My eyes leapt between them and the drifting particles of dust cascading through the air.

"Oh jeez." I said inadvertently. He gave a little smile and I looked up. Not with his teeth or anything, just something small and pretty.

"I just realized, I don't know your coffee preference. Or your birthday. And we're living together, which makes knowing these things more important. And..." his voice kinda faded out and his smile vanished.

"...And?"

"You said you were adopted? Can I ask about that? Is that off-limits? What about the whole social anxiety thing?" he asked and I sighed. I was worried about scaring him away and the answers to those questions were not going to help my case. But I wasn't going to lie. I wasn't about to build a relationship on lies.

"Uh," Could I build a relationship off 'Uh'? I bit my lip, "Uhh." I sighed again.

"I get it if you don't wanna talk about it." he played with his fingers.

"No, it's fine. Uh, my birth mother was kind of, um, not very good at being a mom. She had me pretty young and she didn't have a stable job." I paused, "She was a stripper, people usually think strippers are like, rich. She was not. I mean we had food and we never lost the house or anything.. I'm doing a really bad job of explaining this."

"No, it's okay. Is that why you were sent into the system?"

"No. She died when I was nine and they sent me to PA to live with distant family."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. She had issues with abandonment and she was kinda unstable with a rough childhood. She just really shouldn't have had a kid " there was a silence and I could tell what he was thinking, "No, she didn't kill herself."

"Oh, what happened?"

"She was murdered."

"Oh."

"By her boyfriend."

"Oh my god."

"Yeeah."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Are you okay?"

"It was over ten years ago."

"But are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright... I mean. I get night terrors every now and then... But, yeah. I'm good. S'all good."

"You had a panic attack last night."

"Yeeaah. Sorry 'bout that."

"You mentioned someone coming to get you? Last night you said 'he' was coming to kill you."

"Yeeaah, that would be my mother's murderer. He was an abusive asshole." I shifted uncomfortably, looking into corners and darkened spots in the room. Anything but his eyes.

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