Manic Attack

IX. Kipling It Real

"So..."

I looked up from my phone. Now that we were waiting for our desserts to arrive, I chose to utilize the time by deleting Daniel's pictures from my phone. "Yeah?"

"Um..." Edward Moseby looked uneasy in the seat before me. He shifted, taking his arms off the table between us and slumping his shoulders. "We're indoors now."

"Yes, we are."

"We're inside the parlor. You can take off your..." With his index finger, he made loose circles around his eyes.

I consciously touched the throbbing, stress-induced monster between my brows. Daniel hadn't just broken my heart; he had broken me out too. "It's a zit, Mr. Moseby. One cannot simply take it off."

Confusion clouded his features as he tipped his head to the side, scrunching his nose. "I was referring to your sunglasses."

"Oh," I muttered, setting my phone down and easing my Ray-Bans off. Instantly, my nose relaxed from the pressure. "It's really sunny today."

"Why would I talk about a pimple?" Edward asked instead.

"It's brighter than a stop sign. How could you not?"

To my bafflement, he snorted. It was ugly, inelegant, and ridiculously adorable. "It's not like you have a Goliath Birdeater on your face."

I nearly dropped my phone. "A what?" He looked at me like his statement had been self-explanatory. Was that what he chose to call his hormonal acne? How big of a zit did he get that he called them Birdeaters? I suppressed a shudder. 

In a tone that sounded like an obvious 'duh', Edward explained, "They're the biggest spiders in the world. Twelve inches. Now that would grab my eye."

The way his face lit up when he spoke about the spider, that boyish glint in his eyes, and his eager smile- it didn't make any sense. I was at a loss of words. He was so blissfully oblivious to aspects that most people spent days and money obsessing over. I opened my mouth to say something to make it seem like his views (or lack thereof) on zits was nonsensical but the sheer simplicity of his world allured my intrigue. If his world was the Amazon jungle, I was a lost adventurer who had just realized that wearing brand new Doc Martins to an expedition was not that great of an idea as it had initially seemed.

Those eyes, though. Clear and sparkling like the water crashing at the shores of Thai islands, so blue they were almost a light pastel. From Daniel's dirty olive eyes to Cruella's steel grey ones- I'd never seen a color like theirs. "Are those contact lenses?" I found myself wondering out loud.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Are you wearing something in there?"

He looked insulted before he shook his head. "No, my vision is fine."

"Wow," I muttered, leaning back in my chair. "You know that color of a swimming pool? When sunlight passes through the water and forms thin wavy lines at the bottom of it?"

"You mean the refraction of light?"

They had a term for that? "Yeah, refraction." I nodded, hoping he had guessed it right.

If Moseby had the option of breaking the wall behind him and running away, he would've surely done it. He seemed completely on edge and I realized that it may be because I was still staring into his eyes while complimenting them like a typical cheesy flirt a.k.a Rodney.

"Thank you?"

"It's my pleasure."

The waitress arrived with our orders: two tall cups of strawberry sundae with extra nuts and hot fudge syrup. It was amazing, honestly, how two people from majorly contrasting backgrounds shared taste buds that approved of the same exact thing.