.•°¤* ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ *¤°•.

~1~

Waking up to a slightly warm apartment was a lot better than waking up in what felt like Antarctica just as I did the previous morning. I felt well rested, but my stomach scolded me for its lack of nutrients as soon as I went to get dressed for the day. As I had promised myself, I spent a good portion of my time before work in a nice, long shower under lukewarm water. Yesterday was far back in my mind, its events never truly registering in my memory. I had a new commission. That was really all that came to me when I entered my little storefront.

I walked into my workspace, ignoring my desperate hunger and getting to work at the dog’s face immediately to make up for the lack of progress yesterday. It was always like that. I set expectations for myself, I realised they were probably impossible, I ignored that part, I got tired, I didn't meet the expectations I had for myself despite getting a lot done because of them, and then I beat myself up for it. There was a difference between knowing your faults and actually acknowledging them. I really don’t know how not to be impossibly expectant of myself. 

My mind was blank, not really keeping track of time or my empty stomach. The dog’s face was now taking shape. A distinct nose, agape mouth with a visible tongue, and big, doe eyes. But that was about it. I would probably be able to finish the base, maybe get some details, by the end of the day. But that was by the day of the day, I needed a good portion of the day to finish editing to upload. I sighed as the realization that I wouldn’t be able to get as much done as I wanted to settled in my mind. 

Who was that client yesterday that was like- super annoying? Clint? Cal? Some dumb name that started with a C. Clay! That’s his name. Yeah, that dude. He took up way too much of my time. 

I rolled my eyes at the thought of him. Even without the sleep deprivation, I was still just as cold about him. There really isn’t much wrong with him. My conscience betrayed me. Scoffing in response to myself, I pressed my thumbs into the soon-to-be eye sockets of the dog. He’s a decent guy. Confident. Kind. Welcoming. Charming. All around, a very prime example of what a normal person is. I raked my hands down my face to rid myself of the color rising in my cheeks. I don’t care. Just another reason to stay away from him. He probably already thinks I’m weird anyway. 

The racing thoughts in my mind made it hard for me to focus on my work. It was like my body, my heart, and my mind were 3 completely different beings. My body told me to stay stiff like a statue and hide as much body language and expression of interest as possible when interacting with people. My heart told me to let myself relax a bit and at least try to engage in the conversation, whatever it may be about. And finally, my mind always gave me the false hope that people weren’t as bad as they seemed. As a result, my body overpowered everything, because why should I even begin to listen to what is completely false? 

Clay just needs to get out my head right now. He’s annoying when he’s not even here. I really wish I didn’t break my speaker last week so I wouldn’t have to deal with this stupid shit.

Just as I was about to shove the rest of what my mind could conjure up into the depths of my brain, the ringing of a bell interrupted me. I audibly sighed, hopefully not loud enough for whoever came in to hear. I forced my lips into a welcoming smile and wandered into the shop with steps heavier than I would’ve liked them to be. When I entered the room, I let a small gasp escape my mouth.

There he was. Stupid, tall blonde man. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I went to see who was in my shop, but I was sure as hell not expecting to see him. Clay was sitting patiently at one of the plastic chairs by the window that held my “opened/closed” sign. I mentally slapped myself for not even bothering to flip it back to “open” when I came down here or actually locking the door last night.