Good Morning, Sunshine

Not looking at anyone

~
It'll kill off your beautiful flowers.
~
So I told Steve all about my world. I threw in the little details I remembered. From that I went to talking about my life and then I got to my family and close to tears.

"My mother works as a journalist. She loves her job, is all passionate about uncovering unknown truths and telling everyone about what she found out. And she's such a kind woman. The best mother I could have wished for ... and ... and ..."

I couldn't go on. My voice was shaking and so was every fiber of my body.

Steve was looking right at me, his eyes all curiousity. I could no longer look at him as my eyes were burning like someone had poured acid into them, my throat hurt while breathing, gulping, speaking, excisting and I felt utterly weightless.

I let my eyelids flutter shut, trying to concentrate on my breathing. Trying to keep the tears at bay. I just didn't want to cry now. Not here. Not in front of Steve. Not now.

By closing my eyes I had hoped to achieve peace and darkness but I didn't.

I could see my mothers face hovering in front of me. Her brown eyes and her dark brown hair and details I couldn't remember but I knew were there.

And I just wanted to yell, to cry and sob.

I would never see her face again. Ever.

Puppies!

And then there was a bafflingly realistic picture of a fluffy, white puppy hovering in front of my eyes.

Jaromir? What the fuck?!

Well, I managed to dry your tears, darling, didn't I?

To my surprise he was right.

The lump was gone from my throat, my eyes had stopped burning and breathing didn't feel like torture anymore.

Now open those eyes and get to the point. You don't have to talk about your family to him. He won't care if you skip that part.

I did as I was told.

Steve still sat as he had before my little internal breakdown, curiousity well visible on his face. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of concern.

Like, did he actually care?

It didn't matter.

"I'm sorry but I'd rather not talk about my family. It's ... painful" , I muttered.

Steve smiled sympathetically.

"I get it, it's okay. Mind if I ask questions and you answer them for me?" , he asked kindly.

"Yeah... yeah, of course. I mean... I don't mind. Just... ask" , I stuttered. I was scared of what he might want to know.

"So ... Is there ... Do I exist in your universe?" , he inquired.

I frowned, surprised by the question, taking my time to contemplate an answer.

Did he exist in my universe?