The Freak (mxm)

Chapter 14: Do you need a hand?

* SMUT ALERT (my two fav words on Wattpad)

NOUR'S POV

"Seriously, Nour, I swear Oliver is a nice guy. I get it that you're not exactly happy with the outcome of this meeting, but-"

Once again, I ignore Remy's pathetic attempts at comforting me. I don't need his sympathy, what I need is to be back in my own bedroom, where I can drown myself in a bath of self-pity. I honestly don't want to think about all this shit. There's no way in hell I will let Rémy and Oliver protect me. 

"Listen to me, for God's sake! We won't be on your back all the time, but I thought that maybe the three of us could discuss it calmly around a drink next week? This way you'll be able to meet Oliver"

I don't reply and he sighs deeply, but thankfully remains silent until we get back home. 

This day has been so tiring. I swear, being around people exhausts me. When I am around strangers, my whole body feels tense and I don't know what to do with my hands. I remember trying to explain that feeling to my dad when I was younger, but he didn't understand. Rather, he kept telling me that shyness was a common trait of under-achievers and that I had to get ride of that timidity. 

And I tried, God knows how hard I tried. My dad was always on my back, watching my every gestures. When the four of us attended family dinners, he would wait until we got back in the car, and started giving me a detailled analysis of my behavior at the dinner. He said things such as "When your uncle was talking to you, you weren't looking at him in the eyes" or "You should have replied something when your cousin Khaled was making fun of you". I always felt like a complete failure afterwards and dreaded every social events I was forced to attend with my family. 

But people can change, right? Or at least, as we grow older, we become better at hiding our weaknesses. I think I have mastered the art of hiding my true self. People would never think of me as an introvert guy. Most of the time, I manage to give off  bad-boy vibes. My physical appearance helps, too. I'm tall, with broad shoulder, deep dark eyes and long legs. I have little to do with the little shrimp I was back then. 

"See you later" Rémy mumbles, before heading towards Matthias's bedroom. How the two brothers manage to be so close to each other is beyond my understanding.

I hear footsteps coming from the kitchen and quickly made my way toward my own bedroom. I can't deal with Amine right now. The guy has been watching me closely since the day Rémy brought me back unconscious and after a whole day of pretending I'm fine, I feel like screaming in my pillow, not talking to my brother. 

God, so whiny, Nour. Good thing that you're not actually being yourself with people, because I swear none could deal with you. 

I throw my leather jacket on my desk, and look at myself in the standing mirror. Yeah, I look good, so what? There's no life in my eyes, if you look at me closely, you'll notice that my eyes are somehow similar to those of a dead fish. 

Yeah, I look good, so what? I read books and I watch great movies, but I suck at talking to people and they easily believe I've got nothing interesting to say, except maybe for my grandmother and maybe, maybe, for Amine and my new friend Becca. 

Yeah, I look good, so what? There's something burning inside me, and whatever it is, it's slowly killing me. When dusk arrives, I feel like I have spent the whole day not living, not even for a minute. 

Yeah, I look good, so what? You don't want to come to my place and have a sleepover, trust me. My walls are blank, there are no posters on them, no pictures, nothing. My bedroom is always clean and tidy, like nobody is even living here. My mother would be so impressed by the cleanliness of my bedroom, it used to be so dirty when I was a teen, I laugh bitterly.