The Illusion of Us

Chapter 6: Under the Surface

I never thought I could be this happy. Felix became a reason for me to wake up with a smile plastered on my face. His warmth, his humor, the ways he always found new ways of making me laugh—that's the kind of person you can't help but fall for. He is kind of like a beam of sunshine that entered my life. Everything around starts feeling brighter because of him. Sometimes I even realize I am thinking about how lucky I am to have found a person like him.

But lately, I've come to realize something is going on—another small, fragile withdrawal that I can't quite reach and grasp. It's nothing special, nothing anyone else will point out, but it gnaws away at the periphery of my mind. It's almost as if part of Felix is slipping away, just a little. And while I know how laughably ridiculous that sounds-we're closer than we've ever been—it's impossible to ignore.

This has been a couple of weeks back, when we had one of our habitual meetups. We were sitting on a bench in the park, and he was being one of his silly selves, trying to make me laugh at everything he could do. He pulled this silly face by crossing his eyes and pushing out his cheeks dramatically, making him look like an angry balloon. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Elaine, I am warning you," he said, his voice mock-serious. "If you continue laughing, I'm gonna have to show you my *super* ridiculous dance moves.".

Knowing what was coming next made me laugh harder. He stands up and begins thrashing his arms and legs, exaggerating all kinds of movements in all directions. Other park users started getting confused glances. I laughed so hard that I had to hold my sides, attempting not to fall over.

But then, mid-silly dance, I saw something flash in his eyes. It was fleeting, but it was there. For just a second, Felix didn't quite exist fully. His eyes drifted away, and his face smoothed out into a distracted expression, as if his mind had suddenly departed for some distant clime.

"Hey, Felix?" I called out in the hopes that my voice would bring him back.

"What?" He halted in his step and blinked once, twice, three times before that sly grin returned to his face. "Sorry, I just momentarily diverted. What was I saying?"

He played it off like it was nothing, but it was far from nothing to me. It left this tiny knot in my stomach, a knot that's slowly been winding up tighter ever since. Felix is always the life of the party: light, fun, and never too serious about anything. But in his eyes lately, that look—it's in the distance. And every time it happens, I feel like I'm losing him for a split second, as if something is going on that he isn't sharing with me.

I tried to drive those thoughts away, push them away. Felix and I have always been good at giving each other space. He's a private person, and I have never intruded on that. We aren't exactly like those couples who go through phones or ask invasive questions. And then, I wouldn't want to be that kind of person who oversteps and pushes him into sharing things that he isn't quite ready to talk about.

But now, all I can think about is that maybe there's something he doesn't want to share with me because he does not feel that he will be able to.

A few days ago, we were in our favorite café—the same one where we have always had some of our heart-to-heart conversations. I ordered my usual caramel latte while Felix was half through his iced mocha, making jokes about how he was already planning on getting a second one because he "needs it to fuel his genius."

"You know," he said, grinning at me from across the table, "if I don't get another one of these, I might not be able to come up with any more jokes to make you laugh."

"Oh no," I teased, raising an eyebrow, "we can't have that, can we?"

He chuckled, leaning forward a little as he brushed his hand across mine. "You like my jokes too much to let that happen."