Sept. 6 Update: Under heavy editing!
~
"If you keep being silent, you're just going to die again."
Nova is an amnesiac college student living with her enigmatic adoptive father, Lalo. Life seems normal. However, that image is so close to cracking...
Not due to introversion or something. If I'm out and about and around other people too much, the ever-present anxiety just intensifies.
Sounds get to me. So, I aim to make my room a sterile environment. "Sterile" in the sense that I can control the quality and quantity of what can be heard. A little fan and some music on my computer will mitigate any unfamiliar noise or deafening silence.
I guess that all sounds like introversion, doesn't it? Goddammit.
"Nova! Hurry up," a distant directive pierces the door.
I guess God doesn't want me cussing this early in the morning.
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My roommate's voice tends to be calm and low. I'd even call it relaxing. However, when he wants it to be, it can be the kind of deep that scrapes the gates of hell.
Someone must be in a hurry.
"I'll be down in a sec!"
"It better be a second! I have a sur-"
Instead of hanging on every word of his, I rush to my closet. I also debate on whether or not it's necessary to mention that he's been talking much longer than a second at this point, but his tone tells me that even a tasteful roast may leave me without a ride today.
So, I suck back that particular hint of sass and greet him at the bottom of the stairs.
"Hello, Lalo. You look exceptionally intoxicated this morning."
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In the middle of preparing a bag for work, he gives me a hollow laugh before replying in a stoic tone, "Get in the car. It's warmed up already. "
"...He says right before we end up in a drunk-driving PSA."
Lalo groans, "Fuck off."
He's not appreciating my humor this morning.
"But I was just thinking of what I want on my tombstone..."
I catch a venomous side glance and bolt to the car before he can make that joke a little too real.
"Buckled in?" Lalo asks before finally situating into the driver's seat.
