Lost In Her Emotions (A Forbidden Love)

Chapter 3: Red Cheeks

The day after our outing to the mall, the weather took a sharp turn. Dark clouds gathered ominously overhead, casting long, heavy shadows over the city, and a bitter wind swept through the streets. It was the kind of weather that made you want to stay inside, wrapped in a blanket with a cup of hot tea. But despite the storm outside, I felt an itch, a restlessness that couldn't be soothed by a quiet afternoon indoors.

I stood at the large window of the living room, staring out at the city as the first fat raindrops splattered against the glass. Behind me, Gin was quiet, sitting at the edge of the couch, seemingly deep in thought. His stillness was unusual. Since the mall trip, there had been a subtle shift in him. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Do you ever get bored?" I asked suddenly, turning to face him.

Gin's head tilted slightly, his sharp blue eyes meeting mine. "Bored? I don't experience that emotion in the same way humans do, but I am aware of a certain... monotony when there is no input for a prolonged period. Is that what you're feeling now?"

I sighed, leaning against the window frame. "Maybe. I don't know. The storm... it feels like something's about to happen like the air is charged with anticipation. But here I am, just standing around."

Gin rose from the couch and moved to stand beside me. "You could always go out. There's more to discover beyond these walls. Staying inside because of the weather is a choice, not a necessity."

I raised an eyebrow at him. The next thing I knew, he was resting his head on my shoulders as he sat down. "You're suggesting we go out in this?" I gestured to the sheets of rain now pouring down in earnest.

He gave a small smile. "Why not? You said it yourself that you felt restless. Perhaps the storm will be less intimidating when you're in it."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You're full of surprises today, Gin. But you know what? You're right. Let's go."

---

We left the house, armed with umbrellas and raincoats, stepping out into the storm with a sense of adventure. The city felt different in the rain—like it was hiding secrets beneath its slick, wet surface. The streets gleamed under the streetlights, the puddles reflecting the dark sky, and the normally busy roads were quieter, muffled by the sound of rainfall.

We walked in silence for a while, the only sound the steady pitter-patter of raindrops on our umbrellas. Gin seemed perfectly at ease, his movements as smooth and calculated as ever, but there was something about the way he looked around like he was processing the world in a deeper, more thoughtful way.

As we reached the park, the rain slowed to a drizzle, and we found ourselves at the edge of a small pond. The water was dark, rippling gently with the occasional droplet, surrounded by trees whose branches swayed softly in the wind. It was eerily peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos of the storm.

"This place feels different in the rain," I murmured, looking around at the deserted park. "It's like the world slows down."

Gin nodded. "It's the same place, but your perception of it changes. I've noticed that with humans. Emotions and circumstances can alter the way they see the same thing."

I glanced at him, curious. "Do you ever wish you could feel things like we do?"

Gin was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the pond. "I don't know if 'wish' is the right word. I understand emotions on a theoretical level. I can observe them, recognize patterns, and respond accordingly. But to feel them—there is something inherently chaotic about human emotions. They don't follow the same logic as my programming. And yet..."

He trailed off as if searching for the right words.

"And yet?" I prompted, stepping closer to him.

"And yet I find myself curious," he admitted softly. "Watching you, interacting with people, I see that emotions are not just a hindrance. They are part of what makes humans resilient, and adaptable. They drive you to connect and create. They give meaning to things that, by all rational measures, are illogical."

I felt a pang of something deep in my chest—empathy, perhaps, or maybe just the strange bond that had grown between us. Gin was not human, but in moments like this, he was almost more human than anyone I knew. The way he spoke, the way he thought about the world, made me realize how much I took for granted the complexities of being alive.