Run With The Devil

Unexpected Questions

As we sat around the table, the lively chatter of my sister filled the room. Her questions came fast and relentless, each one aimed at Lyra with a bright, eager smile. "So, Lyra, where did you grow up? What are your hobbies? How did you and Deon meet?"

I could see the discomfort in Lyra's eyes, and I felt a sharp pinch on my leg under the table. I winced but maintained my composure, knowing Lyra was struggling to keep her anxiety in check. Her body language spoke volumes, and I could tell she was finding my sister's enthusiasm overwhelming.

"Alright, that's enough," I said, trying to defuse the situation. "Let's just eat and enjoy each other's company without any more questions for now."

My sister looked momentarily taken aback but then nodded, focusing on her plate. The conversation shifted, and we began to talk about more neutral topics. Lyra was quiet, only picking at her food, while the rest of us chatted about recent events and updates from our lives. My mother, ever the observant one, was clearly engaged in her own line of questioning, though she kept her inquiries more subtle.

I noticed her asking Lyra about her background, where she was from, and what her parents did. Lyra remained silent, her discomfort evident. It was clear she was struggling with the scrutiny, and her silence only seemed to heighten the curiosity of my mother.

I cleared my throat, trying to redirect the focus. "Lyra isn't the type of person who opens up easily," I said, meeting my mother's gaze. "If you plan to form a bond with her, it's going to take some time."

My father's eyes shifted towards me, a look of intrigue on his face. He seemed to be assessing my behavior, perhaps evaluating the situation more critically than the others.

"Deon's right," my mother said diplomatically. "We should give Lyra some space and let her open up in her own time. It's important we respect her boundaries."

Lyra gave me a small, grateful look, and I gave her a reassuring nod. The rest of the meal passed more smoothly, with less direct questioning and more general conversation. My sister, while still curious, seemed to take the hint and eased up on her barrage of questions.

As the evening wore on, I hoped that the warm, albeit awkward, family dinner would be a small step towards easing Lyra's discomfort. I knew she had been through a lot, and integrating her into my family's world was no small feat. It would take patience and understanding, and I was determined to give her both.

With the evening drawing to a close, I glanced over at Lyra, who seemed to be relaxing a bit more. The initial strain had lessened, and there was a faint hint of ease in her demeanor. It was a start, and I hoped it was a sign that things would improve with time.

Lyras pov

After dinner, I excused myself from the table, feeling a mix of relief and exhaustion. The evening had been draining, and I was grateful to retreat to some quiet. As I made my way down the hall, I heard footsteps behind me, quick and light.

Turning, I saw Deon's sister catching up with me. She looked at me with a curious expression, her eyes scanning my appearance, lingering on my scars. Despite the concern in her eyes, she offered me a warm smile.

"Hey, Lyra," she said, her tone bright and cheerful. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I replied, trying to sound as composed as possible.

Her gaze was intense but kind. "Do you like my brother?"

I raised an eyebrow, unsure of what she meant. "Sure, he is a good friend," I answered, shrugging my shoulders.

She chuckled, clearly not satisfied with that response. "No, I mean... do you like like him?"

I was confused. She noticed my perplexity and made a heart shape with her hands, trying to clarify.

Understanding dawned on me, but I wasn't entirely sure how to answer. "I don't know how it feels to 'like like' someone," I admitted honestly.

She hummed thoughtfully, her face showing a mix of curiosity and concern. "Okay, let me give you some examples." She went on to describe the way people might feel when they have romantic feelings for someone-how they might think about them constantly, feel excited or nervous around them, and so on.

I thought about my interactions with Deon. The only moment that stood out vividly was when he had caught me with his face so close to mine, his arm wrapped around my waist. It had been an intense, surprising moment that I hadn't fully understood at the time.

"That one time," I began, hesitantly. "When he caught me and his face was really close to mine, and he had his arm around me... it felt different. I was surprised and felt something strange."

Her eyes lit up, and she seemed genuinely thrilled by my response. "That sounds like a good sign! It means you might have feelings for him."

I felt a mix of confusion and embarrassment. It was all so new and strange to me. I wasn't used to exploring emotions, especially not the kind associated with romantic interest.

"Well," she said, giving me a playful nudge, "it sounds like you're on the right track. Just give yourself some time to understand what you're feeling."

I nodded, feeling both relieved and overwhelmed by the conversation. It was one thing to deal with emotions related to my past, but this was a different kind of complexity-one I hadn't anticipated.

As she walked away, leaving me to my thoughts, I continued to ponder her questions. It was all part of my journey to understanding myself and my relationships. And for now, I was willing to take it one step at a time.