Her Splash of Color | ✓

✤ 1.18 fight for me ✤

Posted October 10th, 2018

✤ Sanya: 1.18 fight for me ✤

What do I do? Try to fight back the blush? Try to fight the heat from creeping up the back of my neck to my ears? The heat surges through my body. These unfamiliar reactions of my body, how do I cope with them? Stop Rihaan from seeing them?

At one side, I feel embarrassed and try to fight it. On the other hand, it feels good. So good. Anytime he is near me or touches me or just looks at me the way he does with such intensity and feeling in those cerulean blue eyes.

Positivity rumbles through me at those times.

And... this is something I am learning from therapy. Positive thoughts equal to positive feelings. It's one of the key points in cognitive behavioral therapy to beat my social anxiety. Instead of dwelling on negative thoughts and letting that turn my feelings negative and feeling vulnerable with those thoughts of doing the wrong thing, taking the wrong step, I have been told to focus on positive thoughts.

They are the one way to beat my inhibitions. Dwelling on positivity instead of negativity.

And Rihaan... everything he says to me helps me take one step towards that.

"My thoughts are only ones that matter."

"Look at yourself through my eyes, San. And you'll know I am not lying. Then, no other opinion will matter."

Oh, those words. How they had made my heart beat faster. Send this compulsive wave through me that I could only focus on those words repeatedly. He was right. I couldn't think of any other opinion in that moment.

He did get me to believe nothing else mattered other than the way he looked at me. No one else's thoughts or judgements mattered. As if none of that would change the way he saw me through his eyes.

I had tried so, so, hard in the five minutes I disappeared in the bathroom to get my heart and breathing to normal rate. To fight how much his words meant to me.

And I don't know why... lately, every time, it kept making me feel as if I was not the one fighting my social anxiety. No. He was the one fighting for me.

My mind returns to being numb when I feel the scarf around my neck slipping away. I look ahead at it to realize Rihaan was sliding it off. What?

I follow it up to his face where he is using the end of it to dry his face.

What? Why?

My voice comes out a little thick as I point out, "There's a towel behind you."

On the steel rod, a clean hand towel was there which would dry his face much better than this scarf.

He simply shrugs his shoulders like this was his preference instead. I know of his habit to steal his mothers stole or end of her top - whatever she was wearing - to clean his hands. I don't know what he has against using proper mediums. As children, it's cute, you know? Our mothers themselves use the ends of the sleeves or stoles or anything to wipe our faces and hands when we make a mess. But then, they do teach us as we grow up to use towels.

But this guy, no. He sticks to early habits. As if in many aspects of his life, he has yet to grow up.

I would have insisted, but what's the point? I had already ruined my scarf with the paint spots. So, I let him and hold up his shirt. I'd managed to get most of the paints off but there were still some signs of it around the edges of each splash to indicate its previous state.