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Krel Ansell · 09-25-2019, 09:32 PM

Text Cut: Zita

Adam may not show it, but he hated having to ask for help. He had come to terms with the fact that he needed to ask, but coming to terms with something didn’t make it any easier. Just the simple act of asking Zita to lead him across the room left him feeling slightly devitalized. Perhaps if he had been born blind, he wouldn’t feel the same way, but here he was…being led around by the hand in a manner that made him feel like he was two years old again. He hadn’t come up here often when his eyesight had been fine, and he came up here even less now that he could hardly make out anything at all. In the silence that stretched between them, memories of the last time he had tried to socialize in the food court overwhelmed him and he could almost feel the sticky drip-drip-plop of the pudding dribble down the back of his neck and the echoes of that jerk’s laughter in his ears. Would that happen out here? If so, would Zita help him? Or would she laugh at him? Was she going to lead him out into the middle of the room and then bolt, leaving him to fend for himself? A hundred other scenarios ran through his head and his breath seemed to lodge in his throat, choking him. He wanted to let go of Zita’s hand and turn and scurry back to his potions lab.

The sound of her voice partially pulled him out of his distress and he felt compelled to see this surprise outing through. He still didn’t fully understand why Zita had come and more importantly why she seemed mad at him. He hadn’t done anything wrong and yet he felt terribly guilty somehow. Like he owed her flowers and candy and an apology. His confusion over her reaction in the Entry Chamber did little to help qualm the fears bubbling inside. ”Okay,” he somehow managed to croak out. ”I’m sure vou have other zings to do.”

But in spite of his determination to see Zita receive her promised coffee, Adam found that after a few steps into the room, his feet had stopped. He only realized it when Zita’s hand tugged on his. Without his sunglasses to hide behind, Adam’s pale face looked a little green and his soft blue eyes were big and wide. He felt another tug and, swallowing, forced himself to march on behind her. He was surprised to hear the scrape of a chair on tile and realized she had led him, not to the coffee cart as he had expected, but to a place to sit. Again, trying to fight off the feeling of feebleness, Adam set his jaw and put the paper bag down on the table. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins which he held out to her. If she wasn’t going to let him order his own drink, he was at least going to pay for them. In his palm was enough money for both their drinks. ”Hot chocolate, bitte,” he said simply. After Encephalon subjugation, Adam couldn’t touch coffee anymore.

09-25-2019, 09:32 PM	#37 (permalink)
Krel Ansell DMLE & DIMC Mooncalf Join Date: Jul 2003 Location: Drowning in files Posts: 7,069 Ministry RPG Name: Conley Singh-Phora International Cooperation Ministry RPG Name: Hugo I. Bumble Law Enforcement x1	randomly tagged \| Norbert(a) \| The Wandmaker (tm) Text Cut: Zita Quote: Originally Posted by Bazinga She followed in silence once they were out of the room. Her mind going in different directions and just trying to get composure and her body to stop feeling like it was still spinning. Why was it when she tried to do something nice, it tended to blow up? Z had been trying really hard to change and not be what she use to be, but this new form of being nice and trying to do with other's and feeling, this was not fun at the moment. She was missing when guys fell at her feet with just her looks, but that wasn't his fault and she knew that had gotten her into trouble, so putting it out of her mind she tried to get her self in a better mood. "Coffee would be nice, but then I'll have to go." She took his hand to lead the way over. She looked around to make sure she knew where she was headed and saw a seat. Making sure the seat was pushed out and he could sit down she looked at the coffee cart. "What would you like, I can go get them." Adam may not show it, but he hated having to ask for help. He had come to terms with the fact that he needed to ask, but coming to terms with something didn’t make it any easier. Just the simple act of asking Zita to lead him across the room left him feeling slightly devitalized. Perhaps if he had been born blind, he wouldn’t feel the same way, but here he was…being led around by the hand in a manner that made him feel like he was two years old again. He hadn’t come up here often when his eyesight had been fine, and he came up here even less now that he could hardly make out anything at all. In the silence that stretched between them, memories of the last time he had tried to socialize in the food court overwhelmed him and he could almost feel the sticky drip-drip-plop of the pudding dribble down the back of his neck and the echoes of that jerk’s laughter in his ears. Would that happen out here? If so, would Zita help him? Or would she laugh at him? Was she going to lead him out into the middle of the room and then bolt, leaving him to fend for himself? A hundred other scenarios ran through his head and his breath seemed to lodge in his throat, choking him. He wanted to let go of Zita’s hand and turn and scurry back to his potions lab. The sound of her voice partially pulled him out of his distress and he felt compelled to see this surprise outing through. He still didn’t fully understand why Zita had come and more importantly why she seemed mad at him. He hadn’t done anything wrong and yet he felt terribly guilty somehow. Like he owed her flowers and candy and an apology. His confusion over her reaction in the Entry Chamber did little to help qualm the fears bubbling inside. ”Okay,” he somehow managed to croak out. ”I’m sure vou have other zings to do.” But in spite of his determination to see Zita receive her promised coffee, Adam found that after a few steps into the room, his feet had stopped. He only realized it when Zita’s hand tugged on his. Without his sunglasses to hide behind, Adam’s pale face looked a little green and his soft blue eyes were big and wide. He felt another tug and, swallowing, forced himself to march on behind her. He was surprised to hear the scrape of a chair on tile and realized she had led him, not to the coffee cart as he had expected, but to a place to sit. Again, trying to fight off the feeling of feebleness, Adam set his jaw and put the paper bag down on the table. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins which he held out to her. If she wasn’t going to let him order his own drink, he was at least going to pay for them. In his palm was enough money for both their drinks. ”Hot chocolate, bitte,” he said simply. After Encephalon subjugation, Adam couldn’t touch coffee anymore. __________________