Glitch (The Write Awards 2013 Winner)

Glitch - Chapter 18

Freya’s head rested against the cool surface of the window. She took comfort in the chill offered by the glass; half hoping that the dropped temperature would reduce the ferocity of her thoughts. Curses and complaints against Andie were currently ricocheting off the walls of her mind in frantic disorder. Her anger choked and drowned; leaving Freya with great difficulty in containing it in the quiet of her room. Her ragged breaths flung themselves into the room with heavy petulance.

Had she been alone it was likely that she would have released her brewing temper in dismantling the pristine room around her. The empty cream of the walls appeared as if they would benefit from the scuff mark of worn shoes and a well aimed kick of frustration. At least it would add a bit of character to the prison cell. Even the room back at Satis had more of a feeling of home. The entire cottage was a dollhouse with no anchoring in reality. Everyday she felt increasingly like a child at a make-believe tea party. In the peevishness of her current thoughts the nuisances about her situation needled at her temper with a greater intensity.

However, Freya was forced to politely contain her frustrations as Bryn had stumbled into her room and proceeded to burble a long and poorly executed string of words that Freya had neither the patience or capacity of concentration to tune into. For a few moments she questioned how abruptly rude it would be to kick him out in order to gain privacy.

It would be extremely rude. But, then again, politeness had shrunk into the background of her priorities as of late. She grappled with the most diplomatic way to pose the suggestion; attempting to string together words, but always falling short of the ideal mix of indicative assertiveness. Eventually her frustration coiled tightly enough for her to discard all interest in politeness.

“Bryn.” The calling of his name only put a brief stunt to his monologue. It soon became clear that the words rolling off his tongue were deemed absolutely necessary and it would take more than one muttered utterance to disrupt their arrival.

“…And I know it was a bit over the top of me to rat you out so quickly...”

“Bryn.” She tried again. The name falling lazily from her tongue as she lolled her head against the pane of the window.

“…I just need to know if there is anything I can do to…” This time he did not even leave a pause of recognition that Freya had spoken. He proceeded with narrowed determination.

“Bryn.”

“…To make it better because…”

“For goodness’ sake Bryn! Is this really the best time?” She didn’t particularly want to raise her voice. In fact, she feared it. The last thing she wanted to do was to unlock her stores of frustration and bring them crashing down upon Bryn’s undeserving head. She widened her eyes in questioning impatience as she picked her head up off the window. This was enough to staunch the flow of his speech. He swallowed back the remains of whatever it was he had left to say before picking up a new route.

“Yes. I’ve upset you and I won’t be able to think straight until I’ve put it right.” His earnest gaze blaring a path to her eyes, one she could not ignore, made it impossible to remove his presence without hearing his grievances. The honourable intentions behind his persistence aggravated her even more for the precise reason that the nobility of his words made her the unreasonable party for finding annoyance in them. She suppressed the want to rudely shoo him from the room by asking a question via an expulsion of a sigh.

“Have you always been this meticulous about consideration towards the opinions and feelings of others? How on earth do you keep it up?”

“Not for everyone. Only to the people who mean something to me.” Again he ignored the latent animosity in her reply and pressed on with the unrelenting and infuriatingly genuine patience and kindness that seemed to form the pillar of his every thought and movement.