Chiara's mistake was talking to him for the first time, Jasper's mistake was confessing the truth to her.
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Chiara led a monotonous and uneventful life until she met the enigmatic Jasper...
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It was quite challenging to get her to sit back down, particularly after experiencing such a panic attack. As we both tried to calm down, I noticed she was still shivering uncontrollably, and my head was starting to throb with pain.
It was a surreal experience, it had been a while since a dream felt so tangible and lifelike.
After learning her name, and that she was just like me, my brain started a constant battle between its two halves. The first half was excited to know that she wasn't just a figment of my imagination, but a real person with whom I could share my interests. The second half, however, was alarmed because it meant that the only safe place I had to be alone with my thoughts was not a safe haven anymore.
Despite everything, my attention was completely consumed by a more pressing matter that lay before me. As I gazed into the big, gray eyes that peered out from under the freckles sprinkled on her face, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of confusion. The red fringe that framed her face seemed to accentuate the disorientation that I saw in her eyes.
As I took a deep breath and prepared to speak, I couldn't help but feel that this was going to be a defining moment in both of our lives.
"I'm Jasper." I said, introducing myself. It was a stupid way of maintaining a sense of normalcy amidst all the chaos.
"This doesn't make sense, it just feels so real." She repeated those words again and again, I wasn't sure if I should interrupt her or help her calm down.
She was mostly likely experiencing some sort of cognitive dissonance, where her mind was struggling to reconcile what she believed to be true with what she was experiencing. And I only knew that because it was exactly what was happening to me. At that moment, I wasn't sure whether I should interrupt her or help her calm down. However, I felt the need to be there for her and offer support in any way I could. After all, I was the one that told her the truth.
Walking her to the nearest seat had been a good idea, I couldn't help but notice the relief in her expression as she finally found a place to rest her legs. I wanted to sit next to her and offer some comfort, but her downcast expression seemed to be asking for space and time alone.
Eventually, I settled into a seat across from her in the awkward front section of the bus, where we were forced to face each other in an uncomfortable silence.
Looking out the window, I couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mind and if there was anything else I could do to help her feel better. It still seemed bizarre that I was talking to a real person, and yet there she was.
The hum of the engine and the occasional sound of a distorted car horn seemed to amplify the tension in the air, making me wish I could find the right words to break the ice and start a conversation. But for that instant, all I could do was sit quietly and wait for her to make the first move.
