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Iris smiled a little, still unconvinced. "But why do you hate it?" She spoke gently, trying not to be rude. "Pronounciation can't be the only reason." She paused, then continued. "I mean, it's part of you, right? It's something that makes you, you. I just don't understand why you're trying to be... Normal?" |
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I just don't understand why you're trying to be... normal? The words struck Caden, his mind blanking. "People would stare," He muttered, monotone as he kept his gaze cast out. The man clenched his teeth until he heard them squeak, mind buzzing. -Why does she want to know? What's so special about it? Leave me alone, goodness.- He thought, not looking at her. |
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Iris nodded, looking down. She could practically hear his thoughts, and was ashamed of her question. 'Gosh, Iris, you don't have to be so nosy. Let him be who he wants to be! Why do you care?? Exactly. You don't. So stop asking such weird and personal questions!' Iris listened to her head and stayed silent, not wanting to freak him out even more. |
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Caden stared off at the books collecting dust for a moment, reading the titles of a few before reckognizing one written in pure Russian on the side. A grin crept onto his face as he stood and grabbed it, blowing the dust off it as he understood every word. It felt good to finally feel like him, be able to see Russian without getting potentially stared at. |
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A smile crept onto Iris's face as she watched Caden read the Russian book. That was all the proof she needed that he still loved his home language. He just wanted to fit in. Like her. Iris sighed, looking down again. She wished she had something that reminded her of home. But the only good thing she had that reminded her of a good memory was... Well, actually, there wasn't anything. Her life had been alright, she supposed, but she had never been close to either of her parents, and now the only thing she felt she was worth was her grades. |
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Caden realized what it was, top 20 most successful in his country. He read through them, not really minding the content and mainly just the feeling of home he found within the language. His name appeared at number 18, a photo of his face plastered on the page. The man paused, reading about himself with some sort of feeling of pride. It felt good to be noticed. However, as it started going into excruciating detail he started feeling a sense of... unease. The man slipped the book shut, sliding it back onto the shelf a little harder than he wanted. He returned back to his seat beside Iris, a feeling of security arising as he settled. |
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Iris watched him, growing curious and concerned as he shoved the book back onto the shelf. She noted its place for later and focused back on him. She stayed quiet, letting them both sit with their thoughts. It was a comfortable silence, companionable and friendly, and Iris wasn't nervous as she had been recently. |
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"otkuda oni znayut?" He muttered under his breath, staring off into space for a moment before looking back at the present. Caden cleared his throat, standing. "Well, I better get going. It was good hanging out with you, though. Maybe I could find a crack in my schedule and we could do so again? Outside of just you being my tutor?" |
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Iris heard him mutter but couldn't understand what he said, it had been too mumbled. She hoped he wasn't annoyed. His standing up confirmed her suspicions. 'Great. Now he's mad at me. What did I do?' She focused back in and answered his question. "...Yeah, that'd be nice." She didn't look at his face, just stared blankly down at her feet, unsure what else to say. |
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"...Right. You have a good rest of your day," He provided, heading to walk back to his dorm. The book still rattled his mind, having every detail of his life in excruciating detail----all his exes, about his father, every scar he had. How had they gotten that information? Caden was unsure, and it creeped him out a little. The rain had stopped, leaving a somewhat humid feeling to the crisp autumn air. The leaves crunched beneath his sneaker ridden feat, adding something to pay attention to beside all the buzzing going on in his brain. |
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Warming, with Sleet and Heavy Icing
