Delayed | b.w.s

8

17:01

I tilt my head as Brad tells me his answer to my question which is strangely similar to my own. However, I don't have time to speak out on it as Brad already asks me his next one.

"Christmas or Halloween?" He asks.

"Halloween, without a doubt." I confidently answer.

"Why?" He asks.

"Because it's in my favourite season and I get to be spooky." I smile.

"How did you make that cute?" He watches me carefully with a big grin on his face.

"It's a talent." I jokingly shrug which makes him chuckle. "Okay...um...books or films?" I ask him.

"Films." He answers and pushes his long hair back with his fingers. "Sorry, don't kill me." He jokes.

"Shut up." I laugh. "Why films?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "I just get into them more."

"Fair enough." I shrug and ignore the look he's giving me as if he's expecting me to rant about his answer. But I'm not going to, I'm controlling my literature rants. "I mean, films are just one persons perception of something, with books you get to imagine it yourself." I shrug. Dammit.

"There we go." He grins knowingly. "There's the rant I was waiting for."

"It wasn't a rant!" I defend myself. "It was an...observation."

He sits back in his chair with that look again and I watch him with a soft smile.

"Digital books or physical books?" He asks me, his fingers playing with the thin white wire of his headphones.

"Physical." I roll my eyes. "I hate digital books, the best part about a book is the smell and the feel of the pages. Digital books ruin all of-" I stop and look at his smug look. "I'm not ranting, you asked a question." I defend myself yet again.

"A one answer question to which you responded to with a rant." He notes.

"Stop." I whine but stop myself when I realise I'm getting into this comfortable state of flirting.

I like Brad, he's fun to spend time with. But I'm still apprehensive due to the fact that I did only meet him today and I'm a rather closed off person. I've already told him more than I would like to and if I continue with getting closer to him, I'm afraid it will end badly.

"Storms or the sun?" I ask him, attempting to stay friendly and not flirty.

"Storms!" Brad answers almost too excitedly, making me raise one eyebrow at him. "I love storms, they're fun."

"Fun isn't a word I would use to describe them." I chuckle.

"Are you afraid of them?" He asks me and leans forward to lean his elbows on the small table.

"Yeah." I shrug, slightly embarrassed to talk about this. "They're scary."

"Is there any particular reason that they scare you?" He asks me and it's as if he knows with the way he's staring at me.

I watch him and nibble at the skin on my lip as I decide whether to tell him or not. It's only a fear, it's not that personal. I sigh and begin explaining.

"When I was younger, I used to sit and watch them, I loved the rain and the noise it made. Then my parents started arguing and whenever they argued there seemed to be a storm outside, so I started to blame the storms I guess? I don't know, I was young. So now I think somehow that's resonated a fear of storms in me." I shrug but a nervous feeling settles in my stomach when I realise I've told him more than I intended to. It's just so easy with him.