Introverts

Normal

C O N N O R

I'm pacing my bedroom floor. All of my family is down stairs waiting for me to come down and eat my dinner. But I can't, my legs won't carry me and my hands won't open the door. Now that I've spoken, I feel like I'm lying to them by not telling them. Is that lying? I don't think it is. I just can't bring myself to tell them. I mean, what if my voice suddenly goes away, and they get disappointed again? Or what if they think by me speaking, my hearing will come back too? I can't give them that false hope. Telling them would be lying too, lying to them by giving them hope that isn't there. I won't do it.

My door suddenly swings open and my dad appears. Giving me a worried glance, he gestures for me to leave the room. I clench my jaw and walk ahead of him, scared that I might slip up and say something. I love the feeling of being able to speak again. I've always been too afraid, but for some reason this time I wasn't. I don't know if it was Troye or the Fourth of July atmosphere, but It doesn't really matter. It felt like all this time my throat has been closed and I couldn't breathe. And now I feel relieved, like I've just taken a big drink of water. When I walk into the kitchen everyone looks up and smiles, all plates untouched. They literally waited 10 minutes to start eating because I wasn't down yet.

'Are you okay?' My mom signs and I nod, not giving her a chance to carry on the conversation. I plop down in my usual chair and start to eat, only looking up when my sister jumps up from the table and heads toward the front of the house. A few seconds later she returns and signs for me to go to the door. Who would be asking for me at 6 p.m. on a Sunday? I open the door to find a very shy looking Troye Sivan. I give him a curious glance and step out onto the patio, closing the door behind me.

'Hey.' He mouths, I smile and nod. After a few awkward seconds of silence he noticeably sighs and pulls out his phone.

T- wanna go for a walk?

I giggle when I read his message and nod, taking a second to text my mom before she calls the SWAT on me. He turns on his heels and starts to walk away and I take this advantage to look him up and down. His hairs curly, and resting on his forehead perfectly. He's wearing a long black coat with a maroon shirt just see able over the top of the buttoned up winter attire. Though it confuses me slightly, considering it's the middle of July. Adding on to that he's wearing black jeans and platform converse. I smile before running to catch up with his retreating form. I text him.

C- what you wanna talk about?

It seems odd that he came to my house only to go for a walk. There's obviously something weighing on his mind.

T- I want you to talk. Like in person.

I stop walking abruptly. It's one thing over the phone but to talk in person is a whole other story. And the way he put it, like it's something easily done. Well, I guess it is. But not for me! He slowly looks at me, his big blue eyes shining in fear and anticipation. I try to must up a glare but I can only stare in admiration. He looks so innocent and nervous. Why does he want me to speak so bad? I break my gaze from his and look to the floor. I suddenly feel unworthy of this god's presence. I feel his trembling fingers wrap around mine and my head snaps up. He's standing way to close for comfort.

'Please?' He mouths and suddenly all protests I had before are gone, my fear and anxiety raised. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a half step forward, our faces inches from each other. I feel like this way, it's more secretive and just for him. Opening my mouth slightly, I think about what I'm going to say. I can say something witty, and make this moment a funny one. But I feel this is too intimate for that. Slowly a stream of words form in my head.

"I-I'm scared." Is all I say. I feel his hand find my face.

And then I'm not scared any more. Why should I be? I'm standing chest to chest with Troye in the middle of a dark street on a Sunday night. Hands intertwined, a warm sensation tingling in my cheek where his other hand is gently resting. I open my eyes slowly, looking up at his gorgeous face, admiring his birthmark.