Hypophernia; a vague feeling of sadness, seemingly without cause.

Awkward? (iv)

I hated social gathering as much as the next person. I mostly shrunk back into a corner cradling a glass of something and surveying the ongoings, which kind of made me look a bit like Ripley when you stuffed him into his cat carrier for too long.
All cautious and careful, ready to strike out at any moment, claws flying if you go to close. I mean you might as well hang a Beware: Do Not Approach sign over my head.
Make it neon. Oh and flashing!

Unfortunately for me I was stuck in this particular situation with absolutely no sign of escape. Sitting at a table with strangers, making awkward small talk was not my thing.
But yet here I sat, back slouched against the hard back of what seemed to be an antique chair that had been refurbished to be ivory with some grey lace trim. Freya? Probably.

I suppose I should be grateful to be welcomed with such hospitality. The couple, I didn't know whether to call them Mr and Mrs Thaddeus Lockharte so well just stick to the couple for now, had prepared a lunch. Well I assumed Freya had. Thade didn't look like the type of guy that even knew how to cook a meal let alone boil and egg.
I raised my eyebrow at myself, maybe I should be a little less harsh on him.

Ah Lú, also so bitter. My subconscious did a curtesy, Thank you very much.

It was all small talk and awkward silences. I didn't talk much, I listened. As usual. I discovered a lot of things from being observant. Such as:
1. Thaddeus drank. A lot. He seemed to favour said amber liquid from before, and had refilled his glass three times in the past hour.
2. He didn't really like to be touched. Me either. Or I mean maybe it's a nervous thing. Any time Freya's hand drifted to rest over his on the table, pristine white table cloth and all, his fingers flinched and his face went all rigid and he smiled tightly. Of course she barely noticed, flicking a blonde curl over her shoulder every now and again and laughing at something Rosa said.
3. He stared. A lot. At me specifically. We made eye contact several times and I gave him several hostile glares and eyebrow raises to which he shot back a shrug or even a smirk. I rolled my eyes every time. But I couldn't help note how his icy blue eyes followed my every move.

My hand raised to scratch my nose.

The eyes followed.

I rolled my shoulders back to get comfortable.

The eyes followed.

I curled my finger around my hair nervously.

You guessed it the eyes followed.

I didn't know what to do. It was weird. Did men act like this? Like grown men? I studied him when he was finally not looking at me and talking to Sean about his job. A lawyer, classic. Eyes followed when I snorted. So I rolled mine back.
Boyish smirk soon pursued.

He wasn't old. I estimated like, early early thirties. I was semi right. 36 wasn't old.
Which I considered unfit to raise a teenager. And I didn't keep quiet about it when Sean asked him.
"So Thaddeus, I hope this doesn't come across as rude but how old actually are you? You seem so experienced and mature but you have such a young!" He pressed. I knew this was not an innocent question. It was a,'I'm trying to figure you out and make you see how you aren't fit for this' question.

Sean 1-0 Thade.

Thaddeus shifted uncomfortable in his chair and cleared his throat."Yeah well I'm 36 which ya know isn't that.. it isn't that young!".
Sean settled back in his chair triumphantly. Himself and Rosa were mid forties and had fostered plenty of children before me. Experienced was not the word.

This is when I decided to chip in, stupidly. Subconscious Lúna got confident and cheeky.

"Wow so you're a lawyer, own this big house and estate and have a fiancé all at the ripe old age of 36? You seem to have your shit together, really!" I said snidely. I was leaning my elbows on the table rudely on purpose. I was challenging him and he knew it.