The dinner was actually quite nice, the place was like this little slice of Tokyo, the way everything was set up, the panel of various spices and add-ins for whatever you got along the far edge of the high-top table, the music was soft and quiet, but without a doubt in Japanese, all of the alcohol they served was imported and in quite sizeable amounts, though Aden and I just got a bottle of sake each. The air between the two of us was just…comfortable, there was a weird sense of just…peace and there was this almost pushing back feeling to my anxiety, there are a few medicines I take for my OCD and anxiety, but there was this feeling around Aden that was like my OCD and anxiety was like a creature he was holding back and pushing it further away from my consciousness. There were these moments around him that I could only guess that that’s how people without the problems I have feel, not panicking over being surrounded by germs and everything like that.
Aden insisted on walking me back to my apartment, a lot of these magical cities have these magical effects that makes two points of the city only a few minutes of walking to get from one point to the other even if those two points are miles apart, you’ll only ever have to walk but a few minutes. At one point, a car passed by at probably far faster than the speed-limit, but Aden pulled me by my shoulder to the side as this wash of darkness seemed to spread and arch around the two of us as gross street-water beaded down the darkness. The darkness swirled as it almost unwove into these deep, dark tendrils that I couldn’t tell if they had color or anything to them, it was just so dark around us.
“Are you alright?” he asked as he rested a hand on my shoulder
“I’m…I’m fine” I said
“I could tell that you have some…problems with germaphobia?” he said, tone like he was asking me to confirm that without really asking if I had it. I nodded softly, “I know someone with the same quirks, I don’t like to say issues or something like that because it’s not a bad thing to be afraid of germs, especially with how you’re a surgeon. I just can recognize when it starts becoming a hindrance to someone’s life.” He said holding his hands up softly as he let go of my shoulder. I nodded softly as I looked towards him.
“Thank you” I whispered, “People…often tell me that my germaphobia I need to like…change myself or “get better” something like that, like I need to go through like behavioral therapy or something…Or they make jokes or something like “well, I guess I know who I’m calling when I need my house cleaned” or something like that. It’s not fun, it’s not anything glamorized like something like TV, or something makes it appear. I constantly have all of these thoughts that tell me all sorts of bad…mean things.” I said
“You don’t need to tell me anything, Vlad…if you’re not comfortable doing so” he said before we started walking again.
“It’s fine…it’s nice to have at least someone hear what I have to say…it makes me feel like ashamed and embarrassed about my germaphobia, it makes me…insecure about being around people, I feel…terrible about myself a lot. People make it seem like I have to be like, “Hello, my name is Vlad and I have OCD” I said as I shook my head.
“I understand how it feels to want someone to at least hear things like that.” He said as we walked, he shook his head softly, “Growing up was strange for me, people always had a lot of expectations for me, everyone who had heard of me already had these super built up ideas of who I am, what kind of person I am…everything like that.”
“And you don’t get to have like a normal childhood?” I asked, he nodded
“I was always studying, always working, always doing something” he said as he folded his hands in front of him, looking up a bit as his posture straightened a touch, spine moving almost fluidly as he stood properly, which only made me more aware of just how much taller he is than me. “There was no rest, no time to be a kid…I had my first panic attack probably when I was in elementary school there was so much pressure on me.”
“I was probably around there too” I said, there was…part of me that wanted to reach over and just rest my hand around his upper arm, so I could feel him under my fingers, every aspect of my body and magic was telling me to get closer, but every fiber of my mind was dragging my body back kicking and screaming.
“Foreign parents, eh?” he asked, I laughed as I nodded
“Never know just how much they’re destroying their kids…where are your parents from?” I asked
“Oh, my mom was born in Sumatra and my father was born in France…I got the inverse of the more wanted genetic combo: dad’s icy pale skin and mom’s black hair, not mom’s complexion and dad’s red hair.” He said with a laugh as he held his hands up a little showing off his rather pale skin, but that olive tone to his skin made me think that he was almost ill, literally green around the gills, I bet if he tanned, he would be able to get really, really tan. “People thought I was a lot more Indonesian when I was still living in Arizona, all of that sun…plus I speak Indonesian when at home, so whenever someone heard me on the phone with my mom, I recall seeing people pull their kids away from me or walk to the other side of the street…but if someone heard me on the phone with my dad speaking French, no problems what so ever” he said“I get that for both of my parents with the Russian.”
“It is a pretty language”
“You speak Russian?”
“All-speak”
“Oh, really?” I asked, my curiosity piqued, though my thoughts were trailing further into the draconic category because of the fact that dragons do have all-speak…but there’s a lot of other strange beings that also have it…so while it does narrow down my guessing field a bit, it doesn’t refine it any more than it already was.
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