He could feel her sit beside him, even though their bodies did not touch. Her presence, projected around her like an invisible field, hit him and he felt like he should flinch to do the impact justice. Usually he was more protected against this. People did not get to him that easily, but whatever shielded him on a normal day had withered. He felt her anxiety and her want to know like a chokehold around his neck. It was hard to bear. "Well enough," he said, somewhat reflexively. Somewhat defensively. He frowned. The way in which his words bypassed their mental filter today did not bode well. Samuel wanted to look at her to soften the way he deflected her and found out that it was exceptionally difficult.
Guilt started gnawing at his insides when he raised his gaze to look at her profile. He saw the sorrow around her eyes and he remembered that he had predicted this moment. In their night in the tower there had been a second where he looked at her in disbelief at her beauty, which transformed from a distant notion to being real and immediate; a quality he could allow himself to experience with all senses. In that moment he imagined the light in her eyes turn to sorrow — well, it had not taken him long at all to manifest that vision into reality. The worst thing about it was that it was not even for a justifiable cause. He made absolutely no headway towards his goals; instead, he had fallen into his worst habits and he dismantled every moral standard he held himself to. He did not know what he was doing and why, or he could not look it in the eye as soon as he was sober, which came around to the same thing. Remiss of any comforting or sensible things to say to her, he looked away.
Guilt started gnawing at his insides when he raised his gaze to look at her profile. He saw the sorrow around her eyes and he remembered that he had predicted this moment. In their night in the tower there had been a second where he looked at her in disbelief at her beauty, which transformed from a distant notion to being real and immediate; a quality he could allow himself to experience with all senses. In that moment he imagined the light in her eyes turn to sorrow — well, it had not taken him long at all to manifest that vision into reality. The worst thing about it was that it was not even for a justifiable cause. He made absolutely no headway towards his goals; instead, he had fallen into his worst habits and he dismantled every moral standard he held himself to. He did not know what he was doing and why, or he could not look it in the eye as soon as he was sober, which came around to the same thing. Remiss of any comforting or sensible things to say to her, he looked away.
