DELTED293y5gds

shadows.

Gregorian chants. That struck Tim as... well, something. It didnt really seem to fit in with the image of Sophia he had constructed in his mind. Or really, anyone. Who listened to Gregorian chants, anyway? How does one even find access to Gregorian chants to begin with? Nevertheless, it fascinated him. He sort of loved that she listened to them. It made her a little more unpredictable to him, which he found oddly amusing. He snapped out of his thoughts, flustered now. "O-oh! Um, um... wwwwhat..." He thought hard for a moment, shaking his head. "Why... do you always... look kind of sad?" he said, trying to choose his words carefully. Sophia locked up for a moment, and Tim noticed. IT was something he did a lot while talking. "What?" Sophia asked, her cheeks turning a bit red. "I I mean... I notice you, sometimes, while I work. When I snap out of my weird trance while I work... I would... look at you, working behind the bar, and when a couple would... come and order, you would... slump, and just... make yourself small. And then you look so sad... and I noticed because I look sad like that... why do you look sad?" He was asking in a soft voice, walking on thin ice, trying to choose his words carefully.

shadows.

Tim raised his eyebrows at that one. He remembered that, just a few days ago, any time he went outside, he had headphones on. He listened to music to drown out life, mostly. He listened to a lot of indie music, he guessed. He liked music that sounded... sad. Melancholy was a word that could describe his tastes. "Ah, yeah, um, indie music? The Decemberists. I saw them in high school once, right before, um... yeah, and so, I really like them, they have good songs, they're releasing a new album next year in January, which is great since they haven't released an album since, like, 2011. I own all of their albums, they're the bomb." He thought for a moment. "Oh! Um, you wore my hoodie? I got it from the concert! Yeah!"

shadows.

Tim nodded a little, though he pushed his plate away. He wasn't really all that hungry anymore. But he gave Sophia a small smile, letting her know that he was just fine. Nothing was horribly wrong, he just lost his appetite. "Seriously, dot worry about it. Im fine, honestly." he said, pulling his knees back up to his chest, resuming the position he was in before.

shadows.

The sudden movement had startled Tim, breaking him out of his memories, bringing him back into the present. Sophia had pretty much thrown herself across the couch, nearly on top of him as she hugged him tightly. If he hadn't been sitting up, she would be lying on top of him, basically. He cringed at first being touched, feeling an instant burning sensation as she grabbed him, but it soon dulled and left completely. He sighed a bit, shaking his head a little. "Oh...um, no, you didnt do anything." he said, speaking calmly. "You couldn't have known what was wrong...um... it's alright, really." For a moment, he thought about waiting for her to stop hugging him so she would lt him go and he would have his personal space back. But then he thought about how hard she was trying to make him comfortable, however hard that was to do. And he couldn't help but notice how it really was calming that she was hugging him. That his whole body all the way to his cheeks felt warm when she embraced him. And so he decided that he liked this hug right now at this moment. He wouldnt always like the hugs, but he liked this one. And so, slowly, he reached up and sort of hugged back, his arms going to her sides, not totally wrapping around her entire body for a full hug, but getting the idea of a hug across. If he was being honest with himself, this was a good moment.

Eldrich Asylum [FauxBot & AllOurPrettySongs]

Daniel walked up to her slowly, looking around to make sure nobody was around to witness the scene. Luckily, everyone was in the Recreational Room, so the hallway was empty, except for one patient who seemed to not even know the two of them were there. He crouched down in front of Yolanda and put his hands on her shoulders, his voice low and quiet as he spoke. "Look, I know you saw them. I don't know fucking how, but you saw them. I've been seeing them too. I've been seeing them for months and until now, for all I know, I was the only one. Those things are the reason I'm even in here. But you need to get up, right now, and get it together. Don't let them think they broke you. Let's just get back to your room, I'll try to fucking explain it there, but right now, you need to compose yourself and stand up, okay?" He stared intently into her eyes, trying to calm her, to compose her, to get her up before they were spotted. "You're gonna be fine, you just need to stand up, okay?"

shadows.

Tim breathed in sharply, then stopped altogether. Memories flooded into his head again. Not good ones. Birthdays, spent listening to his mother drone on and on about how horrible he is, about how he should just go and die already so she could live her life. Valentine's Days spent alone in his room, watching the happy couples from his bedroom window in the park across the street. Thanksgivings being physically abused. Slapped, spit on, punched. Because his father was born on Thanksgiving day. The Christmas day he had to lock himself in his bedroom. Where he had to cower in the opposite corner as his mother tried to break through his door, ramming it, punching it, screaming at him from the other side, calling him names, using slurs. Ungrateful bastard! I'll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch! Open this door! Open this fucking door you piece of shit faggot! Let me in! "No." His voice was flat and quiet, and for a moment, his emotions drained from his face as he recalled the events. His eyes were staring off behind Sophia.

shadows.

That was a question Tim really needed to take time to think about. He had read for sure, but did he actually really enjoy reading? HE thought back through the years. Back to college, where he had to read large text books about things he already knew. He didn't like that one bit. He thought back to high school, where he had to read text books about things he hadn't known and still doesn't know. He absolutely despised that. But he thought a bit harder, about novels, and poems, and short stories. He remembered reading The Catcher in the Rye in 10th grade and falling in love with it. He remembered when he first read The Perks of Being a Wallflower and relating to the character of Charlie completely. Reading The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time and crying because of how amazing the book was. He then realized that, yes, he did love reading. "Yeah, I do, I think. J.D. Salinger is my favorite. Franny and Zooey was absolutely beautiful." He said, recalling the time he read it last year for the fourth time. Two short stories, one book, both amazing. He smiled a little at the memory, finding it to be one of the few things he was happy about in the last few years.

shadows.

"Pancakes." He answered quickly and simply. "Pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. Jesus, it's the best." That was an easy question for him to answer. Pancakes were his all time favorite. Breakfast food was amazing, in his opinion. He didn't understand why anyone would want to eat anything else. He made a hand motion, lifting it above hi head and making a circular motion with it. "Go, same question! Favorite food!"

shadows.

Tim thought for a moment, contemplating his answer. His face twisted into one of contemplation, deep thought. This answer could very possibly define his entire life. Okay. He thought. There are over ten million colors distinguishable by the human eye. These form various hues and shades and primary colors and all that. There are millions--literally--millions of different answers I can give to this questions so I should really take the time to think of that. And I should probably give a moderately detailed explaination as to why I think it is my favorite color and-- "Blue." He said simply, shrugging his shoulders a bit. "It looks nice." Nailed it.

shadows.

And suddenly, Tim felt himself put on the spot. He was never good at asking good questions. Why did he even suggest that they talk bout things? He couldn't think of any really good questions to ask her, and he was struggling to find something to ask. His face visibly showed his struggle. Eventually, he just gave up and asked a basic stock question. "Um... what's your favorite color?" He said, pulling his knees tighter against his chest as he waited for her answer to his stupid question.