“That was necessary,” he said. “This is… less so.”
I smiled at him despite myself, the tension easing into something gentler, warmer.
“For what it’s worth,” I added, “I appreciate the instinct.”
“I’m glad,” he said.
This man, my brain said very calmly,would take care of you forever.And make your life one big adventure.
I chose to ignorethat thought.
The fire popped loudly.
I flinched before I could stop myself.
Arthur glanced at the hearth. The flames had grown livelier. I noticed it noticing me noticing it. Totally overstimulating.
“There must be moisture in the wood,” he said mildly.
I nodded. A second later, thunder cracked outside. The sound rolled through the cabin and rattled the walls.
I startled again.
Then I laughed, sharp and self-aware. “Wow. Very brave of me. Dragon ride? Fine. Weather? Absolutely not.”
Arthur didn’t laugh. He stood and shifted the logs, damped the fire, and closed one of the shutters. The room instantly turned quieter.
My body released the tension that had sprung into it.
“Why’d you do that?” I asked slowly when he sat back down.
“You seem to relax when it’s quieter.”
Something inside me cracked open, but I swallowed it down. “I can regulate,” I said quickly. “I’ve trained myself to. I’m very good at functioning under uncomfortable stimulation.”
He waited.
“The autistic part of my AuDHD,” I added, “has become competent at filing formal complaints anyway.”
His brows knit together. “I do not know what that means,” he said. “AuDHD.”
“It means my brain runs too fast and too loud at the same time,” I said. “Attention goes everywhere. Sensory inputstacks. Patterns jump out whether I want them to or not. Sometimes it’s great. Sometimes it’s a personal hellscape. The trick is pretending I’m fine so no one gets weird about it.”
He didn’t smile at that. He leaned forward slightly. “You don’t need to out-function your own nervous system for me.”
My heart lurched.
“It doesn’t make you difficult. It makes you human.”
I stared at him.
“That thing you do,” he added gently, “where you apologize for existing a little louder than others… you don’t have to do that here.”
I felt seen on a level that was brand new to me.
The room was quiet. The fire steady. The storm held at bay.
I tried the soup again, and this time it didn’t burn me. I let myself be warm.
