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“That would be nice, actually. I’m sorry to be a pain, especially so soon into my stay.” Her lips press together as she looks away for a moment, long enough for those pale cheeks of hers to gain some color. “I might not understand the gravity of the situation, but I should still thank you as well. You’re being very kind, Idris.”
That smile might as well be as lethal as a knockout punch. Plus, it’s the first time she’s spoken my name too. To avoid caving to the urge of wanting to touch her, I shove my hands into my pockets and give her a nod.
“I’m happy to help. Please, let me know if you need anything.” Steading the pounding in my chest, I attempt to give her a relaxed expression. The effort it takes is almost laughable.
Even after she slips inside the room and closes the door behind her, I’m left standing there for a lot longer than I should be. All this space in my home and I’m hovering.
I don’t want to listen and accidentally hear something that I’m not meant to. She doesn’t know me enough to offer any comfort. When she’s ready, I know I’ll be there to give it to her. Just not today, or tomorrow. It might not even be a week before she’s able to see the shoulder I can offer.
Until then, I’ll walk on glass until I learn how to make her feel comfortable. Right now, I’m clueless.
Once I’m walking away, I’m cursing under my breath at how terrible I am at all of this. Shaking my head, the best I can do is think how I can be better.
Before today, I’ve never let strangers into such a personal space. Even my relationship with her father consisted of meetings outside of my home. It was William’s first time here too, and he couldn’t even stay long enough to enjoy some tea.
Going right back to the library, I take a seat on the balcony. The silence is lovely and relaxing, almost enough to ease the tightness of my shoulders.
The woman’s been here for hardly long enough and she’s already plaguing my mind.
Worse than thinking about her in a heated manner, the reality of our situation feels like an ice bath. Chilling me down to my bones, I can’t even hide away in the safety of my head.
I’m picturing her getting upset now that she’s all alone, and I’m not too fond of the thought. I want to help ease away the sadness and wipe away any tears that threaten to fall. Unless I want her to know me as the man who’s breathing down her neck, the number one thing I need to give her now is space and time to adjust.
After getting some rest and getting comfortable with her surroundings, this stay can turn into something more enjoyable.
Daria
Somehow, I snagged a few hours of sleep. Turns out, traveling across the world in a short period can wipe someone out.
After collapsing on the bed, falling asleep wasn’t an issue. The mattress felt like quicksand, swallowing my whole body up the moment I fell onto it. I didn’t need to think about sleeping, it just came.
Getting out of bed is the challenge. I feel so comfortable and heavy. Almost nothing is enough to convince me to leave. Nothing but the rumble of my stomach.
Now I’m hungry. Starving really. Idris’ cookies had been the only thing I’d eaten today. After all that mess with my father, I didn’t ever find the time to feel hungry.
Surrounded by darkness, I fumble out of the room and immediately get blinded by the light out in the hall. Even after knowing I don’t have any reason to sneak around, I still stiffen up a bit when I hear unknown voices. They’re speaking foreign words as well, so that doesn’t leave me feeling at ease at all either.
I might seriously ask for those language lessons from Idris. The thought of staying here longer than a couple of weeks leaves me wanting to not stick out like a sore thumb.
Sticking my head out and attempting to locate the voices, I don’t see anyone. Must be in another one of the rooms. With the coast clear, I leave the room with a held breath.
Just when I think someone’s going to pop out and try to scare me, the voices get quieter as I move down the hall. It’s better that way, I think. I’d hate for someone to see me and try to strike up a conversation.
His staff knows I’m here, right? What if they think I’m some kind of intruder? I do stick out like a sore thumb. The only thing I want to steal is something edible.
Catching myself on the nearest wall, I steady my breathing and tell myself everything is fine.
I swear, before today, I didn’t know the definition of feeling stressed out. Now I’m panicking every time I use my brain and let my thoughts roam to the worst assumptions.
Right now, the only thing I should be using to think is my stomach. I need to find the kitchen. Idris promised me a meal and I want it now.
Once my heart is done pounding away in my chest, I keep walking. I get a little lost while looking around, but I eventually make my way to my destination.
My toes curl against the cool floors. Spotting the time on the stove, I’m surprised by how late it’s become. Hopefully, I won’t be up all night. Moving through the open space, I look around for my promised meal. I find a plate wrapped up in the fridge.
Peeling away the wrap, I stare down at food I don’t recognize. I’m sure this will only be one of the first cultural shocks I’ll experience. I don’t know if I should or not, but I chuck it in the microwave and hope it should be eaten hot.
If I asked Idris for snacks, could he get his hands on some? As someone who buys artwork, I’m sure he can. Maybe I’ll put in a request for a bag of potato chips. Importing snacks can’t be that challenging.
