I don’t know what to say. You make all sorts of new things happen to me that I haven’t experienced before.
Beside her text there’s a little emoji of a woman with her mind blown. I feel a lightness in my chest as my lips tip up, and I swear to God I’m smiling for the first time in so long, it feels foreign and unfamiliar to me. Her eyes widen in surprise, then the next moment her fingers are flying over the keys again.
You’re very handsome when you smile. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen you do it.
Something in my chest loosens. I draw in a breath, then let it out again. I don’t comment on her observation.
“You said you feel things you haven’t before. Like what?"
Excitement, for one. You make my heart beat faster. My pulse races as if I’m afraid, only… well, I’m not really afraid, though that’s part of it, too.Followed with an emoji of someone scratching their chin.
I stifle a chuckle at that. She’s cute.
“Anything else?”
Curiosity. Until you, I’ve never been touched by a man, and it’s… something I like very much. I’m curious what else you could do to me. If you know any other ways to make me feel the way you did earlier.
Her brutal honesty is fucking refreshing.
“What else?”
She answers right away.
Anger. You make me feel so frustrated at times. I was angry before, at my brother and mother, but this is very different. And I’ve… never wanted to speak to someone else so badly in my life before you.
I don’t know how to respond at first, then decide on nothing but the unadulterated truth. “I feel the same.”
I watch her text, then my phone buzzes.
But you are talking to me.
“That’s not what I mean. I want to hear your voice. I want to have a real conversation with you, not one that’s relegated to texts or gestures. I have so many questions for you and so few answers.”
She nods, then texts again.
Ask me anything. I have nothing to hide.
“Were you always mute?”
She hangs her head, her lower lip sticking out just a bit. Sometimes, she can’t control her reactions, I realize. She’s inexperienced in the art of masking feelings for the sake of the public eye.
No, sir. I was not.
I wonder why sometimes she slips into formality and sometimes she doesn’t.
I also wonder why she doesn’t tell me what caused her to become mute.
My phone buzzes again, but it isn’t a message from her, but Islan.
Islan: Leith, are you two coming down for dinner tonight? The staff is setting the table. Set two more places?
I text her back.Aye.
I glance at the time. I asked they serve dinner right at six, and need to be as prompt as I expect everyone else.
“We need to get ready and go to dinner,” I tell her. “We’ll talk later tonight.”
She smiles broadly at me, her eyes bright with hope and expectation. What is it that pleases her like this? What is it that makes her so eager?
